Gan: The Ankoku Tournament
by Inchiki
Summary: The second arc of Gan! (set during canon) Blood sport is no one's favorite (except Koto's), and despite Hotaru's connection to the tournament, even she's dreading this year. Things are hard enough without having the boys she's trying to protect thrust into that crazy mess. Can she help them? And if she can't, can anyone help her? Cause bitch be straight up in trouble. KuramaxOC
1. Chapter 1: No Breakfast Till It's Done

**A/N: This is the ****second**** arc of Gan!**

If this is your first time reading this story, please attach the following to the end of 's address to reach the 1st chapter of the 1st arc:

s/9416447/1/Gan-The-Beginning

_Also -_ please note that the 'Ankoku Tournament' and the 'Dark Tournament' are the same thing. It's just a matter of translation.

And finally, I'd like to reiterate that the love interest within this story is Kurama, not Hiei. Hiei is only the cover image because it's a series and each character represents a different arc: Hotaru is the first, Hiei is the second, Kuwabara is the third, Kurama is the fourth, Yusuke is the fifth, and the antagonist is the sixth.

So, with that being said, let the second arc begin~

* * *

**Arc Two **

**The Ankoku Tournament**

**Prologue**

The air was dank and the land perpetually dark- sunlight never reached these sorts of places. Shadows hung heavily and those that resided upon this cursed island relied only upon the light they themselves could generate. Often times, they hardly even bothered.

"Seishou," a voice called- rough, deep, and filled with hatred that had stood steeping for centuries.

"Ah, yes, my lord," responded the one called Seishou. Of all the beings trapped upon this island, he stood in stark contrast. His hair was long, straight, and bright white, woven into a braid that reached well below his waist, and the irises of his eyes were even whiter. His robes were similar white, and of an old, classic style common amongst the demonic royal elite from ages long past, and the skin beneath them hardly held any color at all. Truly, the only part of him that was not a bright, brilliant white, was the stone he carried on a chain around his neck- it glowed with its own dark light, appearing as if it sucked in whatever light his brilliance generated.

"The project," began the voice again. The one whom spoke it remained hidden in the shadows, yet if one looked close enough they might be able to make out his rather large form- human-like, and tall, reaching nearly three meters in height.

Seishou smiled at him, his voice chipper and light, standing yet again in contrast to his surroundings. "Looks like we're still awaiting confirmation."

"Still?" the man in the shadows growled. "How many years am I expected to wait this time?"

"Don't look so angry," Seishou chided, his face never losing its grin. "Patience is a virtue, my lord. Besides, this one seems far stronger than the rest. It shouldn't take much longer."

"It better not. I have been patient long enough."

**Yusuke**

Outside, the sun was shining, birds were chirping, and the residents of Ningenkai were going about their business as usual. However, inside the Urameshi household, the air was dark.

Yusuke's heart was beating out of his chest as he recalled the memories of his confrontation with Toguro a few days past. He had called Kuwabara over to retell the tale- to warn him of the fight that was coming. At first, Kuwabara had been reluctant to believe him and dismissed it as a dream. After all, how could Toguro still be alive when he had been so obviously dead at the compound?

However, the perpetual tremble in Yusuke's fingertips and his shifting gaze had soon proved enough evidence that Yusuke had not been dreaming. Hiei and Kurama also backed up his claim- they had received invitations as well. Yusuke was grateful for that, as he would not be forced to face Toguro again with only Kuwabara by his side, but he also hated himself for having such weakness, both during the initial confrontation and during the days that had followed.

He hadn't been able to sleep properly since that night. He had hoped that gathering the other three at his house to discuss what happened would help him relax- after all, they were stronger in numbers and it's not like Toguro could defeat all four of them. However, after learning more about the tournament, he found himself even more frightened than before.

"What kind of sick people would pay to watch something like that?" Kuwabara said between clenched teeth, quite obviously as terrified as Yusuke was.

"Bloodsport is quite popular amongst residents of Makai, unfortunately," Kurama began. Though he did not tremble like Yusuke and Kuwabara did, the look in his eyes was hardly reassuring. "Though the tournament is run by humans, the majority, if not all of its spectators are demonic."

"That's sick," Kuwabara mumbled under his breath.

"Unlike you humans, we are not so entertained by watching balls be kicked around a square," Hiei snapped.

Kuwabara glared up at him. "I should have expected you to be the type to like watching people die."

"I don't watch these tournaments," Hiei spat back. "Neither do I participate in them. Though I do not suffer my opponents and would relish fighting a powerful enemy, I have no desire to fight like some monkey for the amusement of those weaker than me." Hiei's gaze shifted to Yusuke, who he looked at spitefully. "Unfortunately, it would seem I don't have a choice."

"Hey, I didn't tell them to invite you!" Yusuke shouted back defensively.

"I realize that," Hiei said, turning to the window. "But it doesn't change the fact that if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been invited in the first place."

"This isn't my fault!"

"You may see it that way, if you wish."

Kurama stepped between the two before more could be said. "At this point, arguing will get us nowhere. We have only two months to prepare and should begin training promptly."

"Like two months is going to make a difference!" Yusuke shouted back.

"We have to try."

"Like hell we do!" Yusuke retorted, crossing his legs and pouting like a stubborn child. He looked down at his hands, which were firmly clasped around his ankles and gripped so tightly that he felt himself losing circulation to his feet. _What the hell am I supposed to do in two months? Even if grandma trained me the entire time, there's no way I'd be able to improve that fast. _

"Can't we just turn them down?" Kuwabara said suddenly. He looked up at Kurama, a slight glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. "I mean, it's not like they can _force_ us to fight, right?"

"They cannot force us," Kurama agreed. "But the punishment for failing to appear is death."

"But we'll die even if we agree to go!" Kuwabara protested. "I'd rather die in my own house than in some creepy demon tournament."

"The idiot has a point," Hiei said, keeping his gaze out the window. "We either face those brothers in the ring, or we face them when they hunt us down later. At least the second option isn't televised."

"As much as I would prefer to not attend as well, we stand a much better chance of survival if we do," Kurama began. "Furthermore, I highly doubt that this death penalty is enforced by demons."

"If it's a human that'll come after us, then I'll gladly refuse," Hiei replied with a wicked grin.

Kurama shook his head. "I don't think it'll be a human either."

"Well, what else is there?" Yusuke asked, almost terrified of the answer. He had come to accept the existence of demons and Reikai well enough, but he wasn't quite sure how much more his brain could handle.

"Most refusals were made by those too afraid to go- weak fighters that chose to run instead of face their inevitable fate. It would make sense for their death to be caused by a demon, however there is one instance of a team that refused where demonic execution simply does not fit," Kurama explained. "This particular team was one of the most powerful teams of human fighters in history. They refused, on moral grounds, and were killed merely days after their refusal. However, they were far more powerful than any demonic opponent they would have faced within that ring- the chances that they were killed by another competitor, or some sort of team of demonic enforcers, is quite slim."

"So... what do you think did it?"

"I don't know, but I think it best we don't try to find out. Our best chance of survival is to enter and do what we can to win."

Kuwabara practically looked sick. "Can't Koenma do anything?"

"Reikai has somewhat of a peace agreement with the Black Book Club regarding their tournament," Kurama replied. "Before now, no members of Reikai or their detectives were invited, so they allowed the tournament to continue. Unfortunately, due to that previous agreement, they are unable to stop this year's tournament, regardless of our involvement."

"I suppose we know who to blame for that," Hiei spat from his position by the window.

"You may be right, Hiei, though we should avoid jumping to conclusions."

"Wait, who?" Yusuke asked. However, before either demon could answer, the doorbell rang.

"Expecting guests?" Kurama questioned with a wary look out into the hallway, from where the chime had emanated.

Yusuke nodded, standing up and moving to the door. "Koenma said that Hotaru apparently knows some stuff about this tournament. She's supposed to come here to-"

Before Yusuke could finish his sentence, Hiei had vanished from the room. Yusuke wouldn't have known where he went if it hadn't been for the slight wind he created with his quick movements. Hiei was headed for the front door and Yusuke, Kurama, and Kuwabara hurried after him. By the time they reached the entry way, Hiei already had Hotaru on the ground and the tip of his blade was pointed squarely at her neck.

"Hiei! What do you think you're doing?" Kurama shouted, approaching Hiei fearlessly.

"This is _her_ doing," Hiei sneered.

Hotaru looked up, wide eyed. "Hey, buddy, relax. Let's talk this out."

"The only thing I want to hear from you is you begging for your life."

"Jesus christ! Chill!" Hotaru pleaded, but Hiei only moved his blade closer.

Yusuke didn't quite know what took hold of him at that moment, but in an instant he was running towards Hiei and slammed into him, sending the small demon to the ground. When he opened his eyes, Hiei was glaring up at him dangerously and had unfortunately not lost his grip on his sword.

However, he thankfully did not attempt to threaten Yusuke as he had Hotaru only minutes before. "Why are you defending her?" he snapped.

"Because she can help us!" Yusuke yelled back.

"The only people she's helping are that cursed club!"

"Hotaru is on our side!"

"She's lying! They informed me that this is all her doing."

"What the hell are you talking about!?"

"Don't tell me Hotaru's one of the bad guys!?" Kuwabara shouted from across the room.

"I am not!"

"I'm not such a fool as to believe those lies!" Hiei sneered from beneath Yusuke.

"What are you talking about? What did those tournament guys tell you?" Yusuke demanded.

"I see now," Kurama suddenly spoke from behind the two of them. Yusuke sat up and Hiei quickly scrambled out from underneath him. Hotaru pressed herself against the door when Hiei got to his feet. Kurama paused for a minute, before his eyes fell to the floor. "It would appear I've made a grave mistake."

"Damn right you did," Hotaru snapped, glaring daggers at the fox while maintaining her position firmly against the front door.

Kurama turned to Yusuke. "I fear that our current predicament may actually be _my_ fault."

"What do you mean?" Yusuke asked in disbelief.

Hiei seemed similarly incredulous. "Don't try to take the fall for her, Kurama. I was explicitly informed that Hotaru was responsible for submitting us to this god forsaken event."

Now, Kurama turned to Hotaru, looking intensely remorseful. "Our participation in the tournament was the condition, wasn't it?"

"Basically."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Kurama turned back to the group and gave a heavy sigh before explaining himself. "Before you two faced Toguro, Hotaru and I met with Koenma regarding the case. I was the under the impression that she was hiding something and had some means to release Yukina without the need for a fight. I had engineered a situation in which Hotaru would be forced to come clean about her involvement with the Black Book Club, all while ensuring the release of Yukina from Tarukane."

"Wait- you know these club guys?" Kuwabara asked, directing the question to Hotaru, who shrugged in response.

"It's kind of a long story."

"And one that I should have taken more care to learn about before I took action," Kurama stated, averting his eyes from the group. "At first, when you two faced Toguro, I thought that I had been wrong regarding Hotaru's connections entirely. However, after Koenma and I learned that Toguro was very much alive, I began to reconsider and it soon came to light that it was a man named Sakyou that Hotaru had the true connection with."

"Who's he?"

"Sakyou's a member of the club," Hotaru explained in Kurama's stead. "He's the owner of Team Toguro."

"Once I learned of this fact, I realized that Hotaru must have somehow convinced Sakyou and Toguro to spare your lives, but I never imagined that our participation in the Ankoku Tournament would be the condition."

Hotaru looked at him accusingly, chiding him as if he were a child. "This is what you get for involving yourself in shit you know nothing about! If you had just trusted me in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"It's true. Though I disliked the idea of Yukina remaining imprisoned, perhaps I should have left it up to you two to solve it as you saw fit," Kurama agreed.

"You're damn right you should have!"

Yusuke, however, shook his head and placed a hand on Kurama's shoulder, causing him to finally look up. "Don't worry about it, man," Yusuke said with a smile. "It sounds like without you, Yukina would still be at that jerk's house being tortured or whatever. You did the right thing."

"What?" Hotaru snapped. "Weren't you listening? If he hadn't interfered, none of you would be in this mess!"

"Urameshi's right," Kuwabara agreed, stepping up to place a hand on Kurama's opposite shoulder. "I'd fight a hundred Toguros, so long as Yukina is safe."

"Me too."

"Without question," Hiei said in agreement.

Hotaru looked dumbfounded. "You can't... this... ugh, are you fucking kidding me?"

Kurama looked back at Hotaru with a friendly smile. "I suppose this means we should just forget about it? After all, there are more important matters at hand."

"Fuck yourself," Hotaru replied spitefully, returning his smile with a scowl.

Yusuke felt he had a point, though. "Kurama is right- what's done is done. Now we just have to focus on the tournament."

"But-"

"Give it a rest, Hotaru," Yusuke said, though his voice showed no hint of anger. "Kurama's obviously sorry about the whole thing."

"Oh my ass he's sorry!" Hotaru replied, giving the fox a hard look.

Kurama merely smiled at the rest of the group. "Thank you, truly. And I'm sorry for the trouble my actions have caused."

"No worries!"

Hotaru seemed livid, but the rest of the group was obviously in agreement, so she protested no further.

Hiei, on the other hand, still appeared quite vexed, though his anger was not directed at Kurama but rather to Hotaru. "You still haven't explained why it is we were invited."

Hotaru furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, obviously unaware of why that was even a question. "Kurama just explained it! I did it to save Yusuke and Kuwabara."

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Hiei snapped back. "The Ankoku Tournament is run by the Black Book Club. Why would one of their members need for _you_ to invite us?"

"Eh..." Suddenly, the focus was back on Hotaru again, and she seemed to buckle under the weight of their combined gaze. "The thing is... well..."

"Hiei has a point," Kurama continued. "What is your connection to the tournament?"

"So she _is_ a bad guy!" Kuwabara shouted, looking at Hotaru suspiciously.

"I'm not a bad guy!" she retorted, but no one was quick to believe her.

Hiei was about to draw his sword again when Yusuke put up a hand to stop him. "Let's just hear her out, okay? She saved our lives, so how could she be a bad guy?" Yusuke looked back at Hotaru and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's probably just that Sakyou needed her permission or something! There's no way that she'd be a member of that fucked up club, right?"

Hotaru bit her lip, her eyes becoming rather shifty. "Well..."

"... _Right?_"

"... _Well..." _

"She is! She is!" Kuwabara shouted, pointing at her again and taking a fighting stance. "I bet she's been working for them this whole time!"

"I haven't!" she retorted back. She paused then, shuffling her feet and looking quite obviously guilty. "I don't really work _for_ them... if anything, they work for me..."

"I suggest you explain yourself," Hiei threatened, causing Hotaru to jump in response.

She was noticeably sweating now and anxiously twirled her hair between her fingers. "It's just that... well..."

"Come on, spit it out!" Yusuke shouted.

"I'm kind of... like..."

"Yea!? You're what!?"

"I kind of... sort of... maybe..." Hotaru swallowed hard and finally looked Yusuke dead in the eyes with a nervous smile. "I kind of own the tournament."

**Hotaru **

**One Hundred and Fifty-Three Years Ago **

"And up steps Akashito!" boomed the voice of Koto, the young fox demon. The crowd cheered loudly- most of them were rooting for Akashito, the leader of the opposite team. Even though Hotaru was clearly winning, it was obviously that these demons stuck with their own- in fact, many seemed to assume she was human, due to her appearance, which had only increased their animosity towards her. However, even with a stadium full of angry demons rooting for her to die, she wasn't afraid.

She had reached the final round quite easily and had even gone under budget doing so. By participating exclusively in one-to-one fights, she had managed to win each of her rounds by only killing three members of each team- each death cost her a fair amount of money, so the fewer demons she was required to kill, the better. She had been hoping that at least a few demons would surrender, once they realized they had no chance, but these fighters had proved to be stupider than she expected and each ran to their death willingly. Some even attempted to fight after their team had technically already lost. Hotaru didn't really mind though, and struck anyone who even stepped too close to her down in an instant.

Of course, it wasn't actually _her_ doing the striking, but rather her summon Yojimbo, but summoning others to do your fighting for you wasn't technically against the rules, so as far as the committee was concerned, it was Hotaru that was the victor.

As such, she had already won the first two battles of the final round and had hardly a scratch. Now, the demon Akashito stood before her. He was extremely tall, though still remained dwarfed compared to Yojimbo, who stood next to Hotaru with his palm opened and extended in her direction.

"Do not expect me to fall so easily," he yelled at her through clenched teeth. In his hand he held a large sword- twice the length and three times as thick as Yojimbo's katana.

Hotaru rolled her eyes in response. "I really don't understand you demon folk. Isn't it obvious that you've lost? Yojimbo here can beat anyone, so long as I pay him enough."

"Heh, he can't beat me."

"No, he most definitely _can_."

"We'll see about that."

"Really?" Hotaru asked incredulously. "Like, are you fucking joking? Did you miss the past six fucking rounds, or are you just stupid?"

Akashito bristled at the comment, but before he could come up with a retort, Koto's voice boomed throughout the stadium again. "Akashito is claiming he can take on Hotaru and her summoned beast! Let's see if he lives up to his word, shall we? Fighters, prepare yourself!"

Hotaru already had her wallet and counted out about a billion. Lower class demons cost less than higher class ones, and she knew she was overpaying, but she wanted to be sure. This was the last fight she'd have to win before being declared the champion and she didn't want to mess it up now.

"Begin!"

Akashito moved quickly, but Hotaru did as well, placing the money in Yojimbo's open palm and whispering dangerously under her breath. "Kill the shit outta this guy."

Yojimbo placed the money within his sleeve and from beneath his helm, Hotaru could see his wicked, glowing grin form once more. After that, it was only an instant before Akashito was in pieces and the stadium floor was covered in his blood.

The stadium erupted, though not in favor of Hotaru. _Perhaps they were looking for something a bit more entertaining? Ah, well, fuck 'em. _

"And yet another fight over in a flash!" Koto announced from her seat amongst the stands. "I don't know where Hotaru found this guy, but he's by far the most powerful demon we've seen yet!"

Hotaru rolled her eyes again as Yojimbo returned to her side. _Seriously- these demons know about Reikai but haven't pieced together the existence of other gods? What fucking idiots._

"This is possibly our shortest final round we've had in the history of this tournament! I hope this doesn't become a trend! We need more gore! More suffering! More agony!" Koto shouted. This little cat truly was a sadist, in every sense of the word. She sighed sadly, and then resigned herself, jumping out of her position in the stands and jumping into the center of the ring.

Hotaru turned to Yojimbo and clasped her hands together again, a light forming between her palms. Simultaneously, a large circle appeared on the ground below Yojimbo, resembling an alchemistic transmutation circle. It was bordered with writing of an ancient language- the language of Shinkai, realm of the gods. "Born of light and forever tainted with the blood of the innocent- Never to be forgiven, even in death - Born of darkness and forever tainted with the souls of the slain - Never to be forgiven, even in immortality."

As the light faded, so did Yojimbo, and Hotaru was left standing alone in the ring. Koto ran up to her, grabbing her wrist and lifting it in the universal sign of victory. "The winners of this years tournament are Team Kuise!"

Despite the eruption of boos from the stadium, Hotaru smiled to herself. Her plan had worked. She was soon joined on the stage by the other four members of her team- those four hadn't actually done anything, but they were victors nonetheless. They were merely four _kiran_ that she had picked up on the streets in order to fulfill the quota.

"So, as per the rules of the tournament, you shall all be granted one wish of your choosing! It can be anything you like, so long as it is within the capabilities of the tournament committee to grant it!" She moved to the first of the four kiran and proceeded down the line. The first of them, Kawagiri, wished for 1 million yen, and his wish was granted. The second tried to top Kawagiri and wished for 1 billion yen. The third tried to top them both and wished for 1 _trillion_ yen, however he was denied and was instead granted the same sum as the second. The fourth, a demon named Kairen, had a different request- he wished to be granted a Grand Master that could teach him the ways of fighting. Apparently, he had become enamored with the tournament and wished to participate for real in the future.

_Fucking idiots,_ Hotaru thought with a smug smile on her face. Demons were always short-sighted and only focused on immediate gratification or, such as in the case of Kairen, increasing their power so they could crush more faces, as they were wont to do. She, however, had bigger plans.

Finally, Koto moved to her, pushing the microphone in her face. "And to the main fighter, Hotaru- what do you wish for?"

"I wish for the Ankoku Tournament." The stadium seemed to go oddly quiet, then slowly the volume rose as the audience whispered amongst itself. Koto looked rather confused, and Hotaru continued. "I wish to be granted all rights to the Ankoku Tournament. If granted this wish, I promise that the tournament will continue unimpeded, and may continue to be ruled over by the committee. However, I will have final say in all committee decisions and will also be granted 50% of it's revenue."

"Um... I don't..." Koto seemed perplexed- obviously, they had never faced a request like this one before.

Hotaru had studied the rule book quite carefully though and knew that there was nothing that she, nor the committee, could do to over rule her wish. "It's not as if the committee is unable to grant such a request."

"Well, no..."

"And it's not technically against any rules."

"That's true..."

"So?"

"Um... well..."

Before Koto could protest, another voice, a male one, boomed over the speakers surrounding the stadium. "We, the committee, have consulted. It would appear that Hotaru's wish is fully in compliance with tournament rules and as such, we are obliged to grant her wish."

Hotaru smiled to herself, satisfied that her plan had worked out. By owning this tournament, she would not only have a steady source of income, but would also have some clout within the formidable Black Book Club, a rather old organization that held considerable power throughout Ningenkai and some parts of Makai as well.

"We are therefore pleased to announce that from this day forward, Hotaru, of team Akakuise, is the official owner and sponsor of the Ankoku Tournament. Congratulations."

* * *

Ankoku Tournament - 暗黒武術会 (ankoku bujutsukai) - the Japanese term for the Dark Tournament. I think "Dark Tournament" sounds weird in English, so I opted for the Japanese version. 'Ankoku' just means 'Darkness', but still. I like the way it sounds.

Kiran - 饑濫 - demons that consume human flesh for food.

Akakuise_ - _赤株 - red stump (like the stump of a tree, though I guess it could be used for a severed limb as well...); the name of Hotaru's team in the tournament.

Seishou - 瀞鐘 - "


	2. Chapter 2: To Forget Favors

**Kurama**

**About 16 Years Ago**

He did'nt know where he was going. His only allies were now either dead or turned against him. He had expected as much to happen when he attacked Inari, however, he had also expected to win. Armed with a _shinsatsuki_ that he had stolen years ago off of a Zenkai wanderer, he had thought victory was assured. Perhaps it was his overconfidence that had been his downfall- when Inari had lifted his hands in defense, Kurama had thought nothing of it, only to suddenly be overcome with the same radiating pain that still pulsated within his flesh.

It was some sort of curse, perhaps, or just the remnants of an energy based attack. Either way, it had been enough to knock Kurama down and enough to scare him away. With Inari's personal guard dead, it had been easy enough to flee the castle grounds and after he had done so he felt relieved- he'd recover soon enough. But recovery had never come, and his condition had only worsened.

At this point, he didn't know where he was or how far he had travelled- he could have been in Ningenkai by now or in the Wastes beyond the territories of the three demon kings. Or, as he feared, he could merely be wandering the woods outside the castle walls. He had no way to tell, in his current state. Either way, it didn't matter- he would be dead soon enough.

His feet were heavy and his shoulders heavier. He had no idea how he had remained walking for so long- though he also had no idea how long it had been. Darkness had come and gone and come again, but the pain in his head made it difficult to determine if that was due to the passage of time or if his sight was beginning to give out. It was like a headache, the pain, but stronger and more complete.

A pulsating wave of agony, ripping through every fiber of his body with a vengeance and then quieting suddenly, taking a part of his strength with it. He stared down at his feet which rose and fell, propelled by his body which was ever falling forward towards the ground. The only thing that stopped him from falling face first into the earth was a small voice in the back of his head. _Keep going. Just a little further._

But to where? There were any number of demons, humans, even gods now as well, that wanted him dead. And in his present condition, he would be easy to pick off- that is, if they ever got the chance. More than likely, he would succumb to the elements, or to this pain that lingered in his body.

Another wave of pain shot through him, electrifying his entire body and causing his eyes to go wide and his vision to go white. He would have screamed, but he lacked the energy to even do that. He just let it happen, allowing the pain to swallow him whole without a fight. The voice in his head grew more distant.

Truly, he was going to die.

When the pain subsided, replaced by a further sense of weakness, he found himself on his knees in the dirt. _Keep going_. He tried to stand, but found he didn't even know where to start. _Just a little further._ He placed his hands on the ground, leaning forward so as to stand. _Keep going_. As his hands sunk into the dirt, he extended his legs, painfully and slowly. _Just a little further_. Then they gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

_Keep going. Just a little further._

The voice continued to ring, but it's words no longer held any meaning. He could smell the earth now- his senses had been dull and useless ever since the pain started, but on his knees, in the dirt, he could smell the natural world around him as clearly has he ever had, and he found it quite soothing. He closed his eyes, taking in its rich scent. It was like home, or whatever he once called home. Like his childhood, or whatever one could call the childhood of a fox. It was comfort. It was what he knew and the only thing that hadn't turned against him.

_It's over._

The words echoed as a moment of clarity, and he inhaled once more before allowing himself to fall slowly into unconsciousness.

**Kurama**

"So you'll be leaving tomorrow?"

"Yea, I think so. I want to get started as soon as possible." Yusuke's voice still sounded grim. Hotaru's advice, little as it may have been, did nothing to help him. Truthfully, she hadn't had much good advice, though Kurama knew full well why that was- the only thing they could do was enter and fight. It was a rather simple situation. No amount of negotiation could get them out of this and neither could any planning. The most she had been able to offer was that they should avoid using powerful techniques until they absolutely had to- the longer they could keep their true abilities a secret, the better.

Yusuke was to leave for Genkai's in the morning to ask for further training. Kurama hoped that she could help him. She had been a teammate of the Toguros' in a previous tournament and in her demon slaying days she had worked in tandem with the youngest of the brothers. As such, Kurama was somewhat worried that she may side with them. However the thought of further training was the only thing that seemed to put Yusuke's mind at ease, so Kurama avoided letting him know about these doubts.

It had also been decided that Kurama would help to train Kuwabara and they were to begin tomorrow as well. He had asked Hiei for help, but had been refused. It would be difficult work handling the boy's training on his own, but the thought of Hiei offering a helping hand had been wishful thinking, and Kurama didn't attempt to persuade him, as it would only be a waste of time.

And finally, Hotaru said she would get to work trying to do what she could to help out their team. Though her power was limited, and tournament matters were decided by a committee vote, she felt confident that she could at least maneuver the schedule so that the fight against Team Toguro would fall last. That would give the two human boys more time to adjust to the nature of demonic fighting and, perhaps, gain a bit of confidence in the ring.

"Try to cheer up, okay?" said Hotaru, who was standing at Kurama's side in the entryway. "It won't be as bad as you think."

"Heh... yea, maybe," Yusuke muttered despondently.

Hotaru's brow furrowed in response and she headed for the door, followed by Hiei. Kurama and Kuwabara remained slightly behind and Kurama offered Yusuke a comforting smile. Kuwabara, meanwhile, placed a strong hand on Yusuke's shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes.

"We're going to win, Urameshi," he said in a grave, uncharacteristically serious tone.

The simplicity of the statement, combined with Kuwabara's fervor, seemed to do the trick and Yusuke smiled for the first time since they had begun their conversation. "Yea. Let's kick some ass."

After that, the four left Yusuke's apartment to return to their own. They walked down the hallway and took the stairs. The entire way downwards they remained silent: Kuwabara seemed to still be somewhat in shock, Hiei was always quiet, and Hotaru still seemed to be angry about how quickly the group had forgiven Kurama for getting them into their current predicament.

Yes, perhaps his apology had not been entirely genuine and he had been feigning his remorse. One could have considered it manipulation, as Hotaru clearly did, but even if it _was_ she had no right to be angry. She would have done the same thing in his position, that much he was sure about. And, even if their involvement _was_ his fault, it was also hers, as she was the owner of the event. From what she had said, she lacked any power to stop the tournament, as well as any power to manipulate its outcome in any real way, but that didn't mean that she was free from responsibility.

Finally, as they neared the end of the stairs, they began to part to go their separate ways.

"Where do you live? We can walk you to your house," Kuwabara offered, acting, as always, the gentlemen.

"No need. I live right over there," Hotaru replied with a smile, pointing to the building across the street.

"That's a coincidence!"

"Eh, well, not exactly," she admitted. "It's sort of-"

"- She likes to watch Yusuke," Kurama added quickly. Kuwabara caught his meaning, and his face twisted into a mix of disgust and shock.

"It's not like that!" Hotaru replied defensively. "It's not like I'm some-"

"- Stalker?" Hiei asked with a grin.

"I'm not!"

"Of course not, Hotaru," Kurama continued in a sweet tone. "A stalker is someone who follows someone else around and watches over them without their consent. And you're just..."

"... doing exactly that," Hiei finished.

"It's not like I watch him sleep!"

"Oh no, of course you don't," Kurama replied, in the same tone as before.

"That's like... seriously creepy," Kuwabara said with a cringe, causing Hotaru to shoot him a dangerous glare.

"I am _not_ a stalker."

Kurama smiled to himself. "No one said you were."

"_You_ did!"

"No, I merely said that you _behave_ like a stalker. I never said you were one."

"She sounds like a stalker to me," Kuwabara muttered, now several feet further from Hotaru than he had been previously.

She huffed, stomping her feet like a petulant child. "Even if I am doing stalker things, it's _work related._"

"Is it?" Kurama asked in an innocent tone. "Koenma never assigned _me_ to move in across the street."

"It's just because I'm more qualified."

"I suppose that could be why," he began, a grin growing on his face. "Or it could be that you took it upon yourself to follow Yusuke around to fulfill some sick desire. I guess we'll never know."

"It's not like that!" she shouted. She turned back to Kuwabara, who still looked mildly disgusted. "It isn't! I swear!"

Watching her squirm seemed to lighten the mood considerably and Kurama found himself laughing for the first time since he had received his invitation. Once his laughter subsided, he placed a hand on Kuwabara's shoulder. "I think it's time for us to go. We still need to find a cover story to explain where we'll be for the next two months."

"Right, let's go," Kuwabara replied, his face falling again after being reminded of what their imminent future held.

As the two walked away, followed by Hiei, Hotaru suddenly called out. "Hiei! Wait a minute!"

Hiei did not bother to turn to her. "What is it now?"

"I... um... I need to talk to you about something," she said, seeming somewhat nervous.

"About what?"

"I need to talk to you _privately_."

"No."

"Oh come on!" she pleaded. She approached the three of them, clasping her hands together and trying to look as innocent as possible. "I just have a little bit of advice for you and- ah! Hey!"

Before she could finish her sentence, Hiei had vanished. She stood there, looking dumbfounded, and Kurama tried his best not to laugh. "It would seem he's still angry with you."

"Tsk. Just cause he's pissed doesn't mean he has to act like a fucking child," she muttered angrily, the irony of her statement entirely lost on her.

"You still have two months," Kurama reminded her. "Whatever tricks your hoping to pull- you still have time to do them."

"I'm not _tricking_ anyone," she snapped, shooting him a glare.

"No, of course not. You'd never do something like that."

**Botan**

She stood in the large room and tried her best not to cower. She didn't like this room very much. It's not that she disliked King Enma, though his size was certainly intimidating, but it was rather that this room served as a rather unfriendly reminder of the true nature of Reikai. As a ferry girl, Botan and her other girlfriends generally had a good time- though they often were exposed to very sad stories, it was like watching a drama. And often times the folks they took to judgement were rather friendly, feeling relieved or enlightened after finally learning what lay beyond the shadowy veil of death.

However, this room, the room from which Enma ruled, reminded her what Reikai really was. It wasn't just some twisted social club, as Botan and the other girls often acted as if it were. And it wasn't just some sort of company or charity organization either.

It was a monarchy. It was a kingdom. And this room, this large, echoic room with its equally large, ornate, solid gold throne were the embodiment of that reality. And quite frankly, Botan did not enjoy dwelling on such heavy subjects.

"Are those the files I requested?" asked Enma, who stood by one of his large windows watching the sunset.

"Ah, y-yes," Botan stuttered, suddenly drawn out of her thoughts by his sudden question. She approached an ogre that stood next to the throne and handed him the files. She would have handed them to Enma directly, but he was far too large to ever hold such tiny papers himself.

"Did you find anything in your research?"

"Nothing alarming," she began, thinking back on the information. It had actually been the ogres that filed through the papers, the records of the Urameshi family and its relatives, but they had given her a full briefing on what the files contained. "There was a slight anomaly, but according to our Probabilities Department it's not... oh, what's the word... 's' something..."

"'Statistically significant'?"

"Yes!" She confirmed excitedly. She found math and statistics rather boring, and as such hadn't paid perfect attention when the ogres had told her the specifics about the data set. "Apparently almost all of the modern lineages related to the Urameshi family, the mother's side specifically, have died within the past twenty or thirty years."

"From what?"

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary: car accidents, house fires, illness- though quite a few of these deaths were unexpected."

"And why would someone claim this data is insignificant?"

Botan wasn't quite sure on that herself, but she recited what the ogres had said as best as she could. "Members of Urameshi family and its related lineages are few. None of the families really had that many children. So, even though there are these somewhat suspicious deaths, their numbers aren't significant enough for it to be viewed as statistically 'suspicious'."

"I see. Thank you. You are dismissed," he said, without bothering to even bow in thanks. It was somewhat irksome, but he was a king after all, so it wasn't really Botan's place to complain.

She turned to leave, obedient as ever, but something still nagged at her and as she neared the door she found she couldn't deny her curiosity any longer. "Pardon me, Lord Enma..."

"Yes? What is it?" he said, a slight hint of anger in his voice.

"Ah, it's just that..." Botan bit her lip, feeling nervous. "I was wondering... um... why did you need that information?" Enma let out a heavy sigh, and Botan worried briefly that she had phrased her question wrong. "Not that I'm questioning your judgement! It's just... I mean, I work with Yusuke and he's a really nice boy so I was... I was just wondering why he's being investigated, is all..."

Enma paused and Botan squirmed under the weight of the silence. Finally, however, he spoke up and in his voice he held no sense of malice or frustration. In fact, he even turned to face her, giving her a comforting smile that, despite the massive size of his jaws, actually did console her.

"I do not think the boy is a threat, and I don't intend to dismiss him or harm him in anyway," he said, all the while smiling.

Botan let out an audible sigh, almost doubling over as the tension escaped her shoulders suddenly. "Thank goodness! I was worried he was on trial or something!"

"No, certainly not," he replied. He then turned his gaze back out the window. "As long as the boy remains loyal to our cause, as I'm sure he will, then he has nothing to fear from me."

Botan smiled to herself, feeling much better about the situation. She was then about to leave before he suddenly asked her a question that caught her completely off guard. "Do you prefer sunsets or sunrises?"

She didn't know what to make of it. Lord Enma was not known for asking such philosophical questions, and he certainly never asked _her_ such things. In fact, they hardly ever talked at all- even regarding official business, it was rare for her to speak to Lord Enma directly.

He noticed her silence and offered yet another smile. "I'm sorry- it's a strange question, perhaps. I've just been rather... ah, _preoccupied_ lately. Thinking quite a bit. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

She had never had the opportunity to speak so freely to Lord Enma before and she actually found it rather nice. "Ah, well... it's hard to say."

"What is?"

"The thing about the sunsets!" she explained. "Sunsets are certainly more dramatic, and far more colorful, but sunrises seem like a much better omen."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sunrises mean that the day is starting, but sunsets mean that it's ended," she explained. "So even though the sunset is more beautiful, the sunrise carries a better message. Oh! Or maybe it's that the sunset represents death of the day? That's why it's so pretty?"

"Is death pretty?"

"Well, not exactly _pretty_, but..." Botan trailed off as a flood of memories of newly dead souls washed over her. Their faces- the mix of emotions and thoughts, some of them scared but most of them relieved. "It's certainly powerful."

Lord Enma seemed to think on this a moment, returning his gaze out the window, the colors of the sunset reflecting onto his glasses. "I suppose it is. You may go now."

Just like that, he was a king again, and Botan just a lowly ferry girl.

**Jin**

He stared into the empty room. This was the room he had spent most of his life in- he'd been here since he was a child. For almost as long as he could remember, the Shinobi had been his home. They had recruited him at a young age, buying him off of a slaver that he belonged to at the time, and they had trained him to fight. They had taken care of him- fed him, housed him, educated him... provided him with more than he ever imagined he would receive. He was grateful, truly, but it was time for him to go.

He had filed his resignation months ago, much to the surprise of his team. Anyone within the Shinobi was allowed to leave at any time, should they chose to, and yet resignations were extremely rare. No one could argue that the message of the Shinobi was a just one- they were demons charged with protecting Ningenkai. They worked for humans on a contract basis, most frequently contracted to an organization called the Black Book Club. Most of their world involved the hunting and extermination of "problematic" demons that worked their way into Ningenkai, i.e. criminals and those that aided in their crimes. They specialized in dealing with _kiran_, demons that ate, and were subsequently addicted to, human flesh. It was fairly easy work, and quite rewarding. There was nothing quite like the feeling of saving some powerless human from a flesh-addict. It was a truly great organization to be a part of.

He still agreed with their message, and had promised himself to uphold it even after he left. However, he had grown tired of operating exclusively within the organization. Though they provided him with any material substance he could want, they couldn't provide him with the one thing he truly desired- complete and utter freedom. Shinobi were required to work within the shadows, forever keeping themselves and their existence quiet from the human population that they devoted their lives to protect. His entire time within the organization, from his childhood onward, he had stayed in the same room, known the same people, and done the same things day after day after day. He was never allowed to explore the world, or make new friends outside of the Shinobi- his life, his work, and even his existence, was to remain a secret and as such, he couldn't make any real connections with the outside world.

And for a long while, he had been happy with that arrangement- until he had met someone.

It wasn't like he had fallen in love, or found a long lost family member, or met a downtrodden child that he hoped to raise himself. It was nothing so noble as that. It was just a man he had met- an average, human man. He had saved him from a _kiran_. The man in question had been at a gay bar in Osaka and had left with another man whom he had thought was trustworthy only to find out that he was, in fact, a demon who preyed upon the drunk and the horny in order to feed his addiction to human flesh. Luckily, Jin had been at the same bar, investigating the disappearance of gay men within the area, and had recognized the signs early on enough to stop the demon before he was able to hurt the human. Jin had been about to blank the mind of the man, before he said something that completely changed Jin's perspective.

_"You ever been with a man before?" _

The question was a strange one, and undoubtedly only asked because the man was terribly drunk. At least, that's what Jin had assumed- why else would the man be hitting on him while the bloody carcass of a demon lay only a few feet away?

He never answered- he blanked the man's mind and continued on his way, but for some reason the question haunted him. He had never thought about having sex with a man, that much was certain, but he soon realized that he had never actually thought about having sex with anyone. Sure, he had thought about sex, but he had never really _thought _about it. He had never bothered to imagine it, he had never really wanted it. His life had been about training and fighting and work. And those things he still loved- there was no question about it. But he soon realized that there were more things he wanted to learn. There were more things out in the world than what he had experienced all these years- more things than he probably even knew. And he wanted to learn about those things- or at the very least see them.

He had turned in his resignation only a few days after the encounter and, though he often questioned his motivation, he had yet to regret the decision.

"Feeling nostalgic?"

The question came from behind him and turned towards the voice. It was Touya, another member of the Shinobi, who had snuck up on him while he was lost in thought.

"A bit, yea," Jin muttered, somewhat embarrassed.

Touya smiled at him. "Don't worry- I did the same thing. It's a pretty big change."

Touya was one of the four that had decided to leave with him. After giving his resignation, he was given a month to remain within Shinobi headquarters to plan his next move. He had soon come to realize that the world outside of the Shinobi required money- if he wanted to survive, he'd need either a job or a large sum to keep him afloat. It was during his planning that he got the idea- the Ankoku Tournament. It was an annual tournament, held by the upper echelon of the Black Book Club, where demons fought one another in the hopes of winning the grand prize- one wish per fighter, and that wish could be for almost anything.

He would need five members though. A few had come easy enough- Touya apparently had the same desire to explore the world, so he was easy to convince. Gamma had been a member of Jin's unit previously, and had apparently been considering resignation himself ever since Jin issued his own. The last two, Bakuken and Risho, apparently liked the idea of being granted any wish they wanted- Jin didn't know what they meant to wish for, but he didn't bother to ask.

His own wish was for the island the tournament was held on. It wasn't a large wish, but it was enough for him- if he won, he'd have his own land. He could start a farm, build a cabin, and live amongst the trees. And with his ability to control the wind, he could travel whenever he wished to the large human cities. Touya had agreed to go in on the deal with him- he would wish for money, as large a sum as they could grant him, so that they would be able to travel and eat at restaurants and go drinking with new friends- do normal things, just like the humans that they had lived their lives amongst in secret.

All they would have to do is win, and this new life would be theirs. And, considering the strength of the other competitors, they felt fairly confident they could do it.

"It'll be a good one, I think," Jin said, in response to Touya's comment about change.

"Yea, I think it will be too."

"Heh, we better not lose, though," Jin replied with a laugh. "Or else we'll be out of a job and into the poor house!"

"We won't lose. There's no way we'll lose."

* * *

**A/N**: One quick note- throughout the series, there are... sort of "twists" I guess? Or "reveals" and the like. Some big, some small, but over all, things could definitely be spoiled for someone. As such, I'd like to request that any mention of plot details be marked with some form of spoiler tag (like big capital letters or something), or be left out of reviews.

Just in case. :)


	3. Chapter 3: The Dog Who BItes

**A/N:** Putting author notes at the top from now on. So... yea. Definitions of Japanese terms are placed at the bottom- there are a lot of concepts that I'm worried may get confusing, so the definitions at the bottom are for easy reference, like, in case you forget what a _shinsatsuki_ is or who _kiran_ are. I also use it to kind of explain little bits of information that just don't fit naturally within the context of the story. It's like a glossary.

As many of you will come to find out soon (if you chose to continue with this insanity), I've gone... quite in depth. Perhaps even _too_ in depth. This started as a fun romance story and bloomed into a giant death flower of adventure, suspense and betrayal. Just... be prepared.

Anyway, I hope ya'll are doing okay getting through all of this exposition. Also, yes! Jin is a POV character throughout the series and as such it's important to know his background (maybe?). Also the Shinobi... _the Shinobi_.

It always bothered me that in the series they're like, "Oh no, not the shinobi!" before they fight Jin and his whole group, and then just like... that's the end of it. They make them out to be this super infamous group, but it's just... not... dealt with. Ever. At all. So. We're dealing with it (by 'we' I mean me and you 3).

Also! I started a forum on here. I'm trying to make it active. Check it out here - forum/Revival/138889/

Anyway, here's chapter. D:

* * *

**Genkai**

By the time Yusuke reached the top of the cliff side, Genkai had already grown tired of waiting. The boy was slow. Sure, he had 100 kilo weights tied to his ankles, but still- he needed to speed up. Not only that, but he was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. As soon as he stepped back on level ground, he collapsed into the dirt.

"You'll have to do better than that if you hope to survive this tournament," she snapped, staring strongly down at the boy crumbled into a sweaty heap on the ground.

"Fuck you," he breathed out angrily.

She scoffed. "If you don't want my help that's fine but if you do then listen to what I say, damn it!"

"Then say something important!" he retorted. He was such a child- both metaphorically and literally.

"What I'm saying is important." She spat while glaring down at him- being that he was on the ground, sweating and panting and she was still standing, it gave her a good opportunity to tower over the boy. "You looked pathetic out there."

"I did not!"

"You did!" She could have slapped him then and there, but she restrained herself. "Don't think you can just half-ass your way through this training like you did the last time."

"I'm not!" he shouted, sounding almost desperate. "I'm doing my fucking best so fuck you!"

"If this is your best, you don't stand a chance." she shouted back at him.

He gritted his teeth, suddenly punching at the ground in his anger. "I know that!"

This sudden admission of self-doubt took Genkai somewhat by surprise. She maybe should have expected as much, but the boy was always so confident- always so stupid. She had never thought he truly understood the threat he faced. She almost felt bad for him, before she remembered that pity wouldn't get him, or her, anywhere. As hard as it was to hear the fear in his voice, the truth was that he _should_ be afraid. Genkai wasn't sure how strong Toguro had become in the years they had spent apart, but there had been a time when her and him were equal in power, so as long as _she_ could beat Yusuke, then Toguro could beat him as well.

"Get over it," she spat angrily. He looked up to glare at her, his face still red, but he remained silent. He knew she was right. "Now climb back down to the bottom. Once you reach the starting point, climb back up. Then do it again."

"Are you serious?" he whined.

"Of course I'm serious!" she spat again. "You'll continue to do this until I tell you to stop! Now get going!"

After she had issued the order, she turned and began to walk away. "Where are you going!?" he yelled after her.

"I have to meet someone."

"What!?" Yusuke shouted. "So while I'm working my ass off, you're just going to go drink tea!?"

"Exactly," she replied calmly. She turned back to him, giving him a look of pity, though she tried not to. "It's your life that's at stake, not mine."

"... Crazy old bitch," he muttered. Regardless, he seemed to take her words to heart and began his dissent.

* * *

When she reached the main hall of the temple grounds, it had been about 30 minutes. She could have gotten there faster, but she preferred to make this particular guest wait. She took off her shoes and walked down the portico towards the tatami floored rooms in the back of the main hall. The door to one of them was already open and as she stepped inside, she found Hotaru waiting patiently, seated in the _seiza_ style. She looked uncomfortable.

"Why are you sitting like that?" she asked, taking her own seat on a pillow across from Hotaru.

"I'm in a temple, aren't I?" Hotaru said, looking at the ground as if she were embarrassed, refusing to make eye contact. "_Seiza_ just seemed appropriate."

"So all of a sudden you're worried about appearances?"

She gave her a wide smile. "I'm turning over a new leaf!"

"Bullshit."

Hotaru looked a bit hurt, and then they fell into a very uncomfortable silence. Genkai sat, staring directly at Hotaru, her eyes drilling into her, while Hotaru's gaze shifted around the room nervously and she fidgeted. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but apparently decided not to and closed it again a moment later. Then, she did it again, only to once more fall into their uncomfortable silence. She looked like a dying fish.

Finally, she spoke, speaking in drawn out, overly sweet tones. "This is a very nice temple, by the way..."

Genkai did not respond.

"I really like the... uh... architecture," she continued, still avoiding eye contact.

Once again Genkai did not respond. Her gaze intensified and Hotaru began noticeably sweating under the pressure.

They were silent once more before Hotaru began to speak again: "The weather sure is-"

"- Cut the crap!" Genkai shouted, and Hotaru jumped in her seat. "What the hell do you want?" she demanded.

Hotaru cringed and averted her gaze further. "So... you're still mad, then?"

"Of course I'm still mad," Genkai snapped. "Yusuke is finally starting to show some promise and then you go and sign him up to be killed."

"It wasn't like that!" she protested. "I had no choice!"

"Right. Koenma told me," Genkai replied, obviously unconvinced. "Apparently this was all _their idea_."

"It was!"

"Then explain to me what you were doing making deals with Toguro in the first place!?"

"Well... it's... I mean..." Hotaru looked even more uncomfortable than before and shifted awkwardly out of her seiza position.

"Tell me."

"Don't get mad though, okay?"

"I'm already mad. Now tell me."

"I can't unless you-"

"- Hurry up and spill it!"

"It's... er, see... um..."

"Spit it out!"

"Eeeeeeh-"

"NOW."

"I KILLED YUSUKE!" she suddenly exclaimed, covering her face with her hands as if she expected to get hit. Genkai had been expecting her to crack eventually, though she certainly hadn't been expecting this. She didn't know how she _could _have expected this- it didn't even make any sense. Genkai knew about Yusuke's death, as well as his arrangement with Koenma. She also knew that Hotaru had been somewhat involved with the process and had apparently been the one to recommend Yusuke for the job in the first place. As such, the thought of her being the one initially responsible for his demise seemed... strange. Also, it didn't really explain their current situation. In fact, it seemed to just raise _more_ questions.

Hotaru seemed hesitant to continue, but Genkai patiently remained silent, awaiting an explanation she knew would come eventually. Finally, she began to explain, still cowering behind her frail, thin arms. "It was... er, I didn't _want_ to. It was the only way to... see, I made this deal kind of and..."

"Get to the point already," Genkai snapped.

Hotaru took a single deep breath, lowered her hands, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, everything came at once. "I was supposed to kill Yusuke to bring out his demon power, or I thought I was, but I wasn't really, and then I had to bring him back so I made a deal with Enma, but then he wanted to me to fix this issue with Sakyou and so then, you know, I went to Sakyou and we made a deal and then that went bad so then I was just going to ignore it but stupid Kurama, that _fucking Kurama_, came in and ruined everything so I had to _back_ to Sakyou and make _another_ deal and... well..." She looked up at Genkai, biting her lip nervously. "The deal was that I had to invite them to the tournament."

Genkai just stared and Hotaru stared back, wide eyed and looking nervous. After a few moments, Hotaru sunk her head in her hands and Genkai let out a sigh. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Hotaru whined from between her hands.

"How the hell do you get into these situations?"

"The world just hates me."

"Or you're just stupid." Hotaru glared up at her defiantly and Genkai glared back. Finally, however, Genkai softened her gaze. "It _does_ sound, though, like this isn't _entirely_ your fault."

"I told you it wasn't!"

"But it is still _partially_ your fault," Genkai reminded her. "After all, you chose to keep up that god forsaken tournament."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't stop the tournament. That was a part of the initial arrangement," Hotaru said sadly.

Genkai paused, before narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Tell me again why you did all of this."

"Oh, you mean... the uh... killing bit... yea..." Hotaru's eyes got shifty- were she a normal person, this would have seemed like suspicious behavior, but for Hotaru it meant the opposite. The truth made the girl quite uncomfortable- it was only when she seemed confident and at ease that there was reason to worry. As such, Genkai felt fairly confident that she was being truthful when she said: "That's kind of why I came to you. See... he's kind of, like, heh... the heir of a demonic empire?"

_And I thought the first part was ridiculous_, Genkai thought to herself, trying not to look too shocked but she imagined she probably wasn't too successful in that regard. After all, it wasn't everyday one learns that someone they know is secretly a demon- and being an heir to a demonic empire was a whole different bag of craziness. She believed her- or believed her somewhat- and that seemed even crazier still.

Hotaru's tense smile broke and she suddenly went from guilty to pleading. "I know you used to hunt demons, but please don't-"

"-Relax," Genkai interrupted. "I told you before- he's my apprentice. It wouldn't matter if he was the king of the whole of Makai- I'll train him to the best of my ability regardless."

Hotaru breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Thank god. I was really worried about how you would take that."

"No kidding," Genkai responded flatly. "I'm surprised you told me at all."

"Well, I didn't quite know how else I could convince you to give him... da da da! This!" Hotaru reached into a small bag she carried with her, withdrawing a small bottle filled with some sort of lilac-colored liquid and presenting it like it was some grand prize. "You need to give this to him somehow- make sure he drinks it all! I was told by a friend of mine it'll help bring about his demonic avatism. If he can come into his demon power, then Toguro doesn't-"

"-IDIOT!" Genkai shouted suddenly, causing Hotaru to jump in her seat. "Have you learned nothing!?" Hotaru proceeded to look shocked, which only infuriated Genkai further. The girl really _was_ stupid. She gave her a hard look and continued. "Stop trying to manipulate the situation. So far your meddling has only gotten you further into trouble and these 'friends' of yours obviously can't be trusted. You're getting in over your head and you need to stop before you make things worse."

"But-"

"No," Genkai stated firmly. "If he comes into this power you claim he has, then he'll do so in his own time. However, we shouldn't count on that. The best thing for us to do now is to pretend as if this conversation never happened and continue on as if he's human."

Hotaru looked rather disappointed. "That's easy for you to say..."

"It's not easy," Genkai snapped. "But it's the wisest choice." Genkai figured at worst, someone had lied to Hotaru about Yusuke's heritage- in which case they'd look like idiots for trying to act on it. And at best, Hotaru was right and he _was_ the heir to a demonic empire, in which case doing anything might force them to become involved in some sort of strange, Makai political battle- if Hotaru wasn't already involved in something like that. Furthermore, Genkai had absolutely no clue how to trigger a demonic avatism, nor did she really know what an 'avatism' was, and she highly doubted Hotaru did either. Hotaru began to ruffle her hair and Genkai knew she was frustrated, but she didn't care. "I don't intend to tell Yusuke about this supposed heritage of his and I won't let you either. No matter what he _may_ be, he _is_ a spirit detective and this revelation will just distract him. He doesn't need that right now."

"At least we agree on something..."

"At least."

Hotaru sat in silence for a quite a few moments, obviously deep in thought, before standing swiftly, still hanging her head in disappointment. Apparently she was smart enough to know that she wouldn't be able to change Genkai's mind. Genkai briefly wondered if she was planning to somehow sneak Yusuke whatever was in that bottle, but even if she tried, Genkai doubted she would succeed. With Yusuke in Genkai's care for the next two months, the girl would have a very hard time sneaking up on either of them, especially if she anticipated it. Hotaru moved to the door, appearing pissed off but remaining quiet despite this fact. However, when Genkai spoke again she stopped in her tracks.

"Have you found a fifth fighter?"

Hotaru gave her a guilty looking grin. "Uh... no, not yet but-"

"- Sign me up."

"What?"

"I'll be the fifth fighter."

"... _What?_" Hotaru paused briefly before quickly scrambling back to her pillow on the tatami floor, her eyes wide. "But... but your wish-"

"- I know what my wish was," Genkai said, her eyes closed solemnly rather than fixed on Hotaru.

"Well yea, but... I mean... you _hate_ this tournament."

"I do."

"So...?" Hotaru trailed off, looking incredibly confused. Apparently, the girl was not only selfish, but hardly even understood the _concept_ of self-sacrifice.

Genkai, on the other hand, had been thinking heavily about this ever since Toguro's three men had arrived at her compound three days ago. The idea of returning to that tournament left a sour taste in her mouth, but she knew she had to. "Like I said- we can't count on Yusuke coming into some magical power before this tournament is over, and while he's still human he's going to be in trouble. He'll need all the help he can get."

"Are you sure?" Hotaru asked, obviously worried, as she knew what returning to that place would mean.

However, Genkai was certain. She was going to protect Yusuke and, if possible, she would kill Toguro herself. Truthfully, she was responsible for this mess as well- she never should have left Toguro alive. She knew what he was becoming, and she stood by and let it happen without even attempting a fight. And now he was looking to kill her successor.

"I'm sure," she stated simply.

Hotaru still seemed a bit shocked, but didn't question it and instead just sat back and looked baffled. "Whatever you say, I guess."

"One more thing," Genkai began, her gaze hardening once more. She could see Hotaru swallow, obviously nervous about what she was going to say next. The tournament, and all matters concerning it, had been a taboo subject up until now- and clearly Genkai was displeased with the current situation. There was no question about that for either of them. As such, she figured Hotaru knew what she was about to say- but still, it had to be said. "I never held a grudge against you for inviting me all those years ago. We didn't know each other and you were only doing your job... but." She let the word linger in the air momentarily before fixing her gaze squarely on Hotaru, her eyes dangerous. "If Yusuke is killed, understand: I will never forgive you."

"... I'll keep that in mind," she replied, looking rather pale. Then, she suddenly gave a weak smile- not her typical grin, but one that seemed to hold something more. She was still hiding something, though Genkai wasn't sure if she was keen on finding out what. She spoke softly, almost as if to herself: "Though if Yusuke loses, I doubt I'll be around long enough for you to even get the chance to."

**Inari**

"Don't worry, I'll find a way... yes... yes, not a problem... alright, talk to you later." He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

The man he had just been speaking with was none other than Norio Ohga, the president of the Sony Corporation. Though not the top executive, Inari personally found Ohga to be far more reliable than anyone else within the company. The current chief executive and co-founder, a Mr. Akio Morita, was, in Inari's opinion, completely incompetent and as such, he had chosen as of late to circumvent the resident company head in favor of one of his subordinates. He felt no guilt about this, however- business was ruthless, no matter what realm one travelled to.

Perhaps that was why he was drawn to it in the first place. Or, perhaps, it was merely because he was _good_ at it. He hadn't just been granted the name 'God of Worldly Wealth'- he had earned it. Though originally his business ventures had taken place within the far more profitable Makai, after the Divine Rebellion that world had fallen quickly into disarray, and in response Inari had turned his attention towards the far more backward, yet far less turbulent, Ningenkai. It had taken some time, but eventually Ningenkai's profitability grew and he managed to secure his place within its economy.

Many businesses around the world, and almost _every_ business in Japan, held a shrine to him. Furthermore, those corporations that had risen to the upper echelons were in contact with him directly- the silk trade had been reliant upon _his_ information, the spice trade had been reliant upon _his_ ships, and now the technology sector was reliant upon _his_ negotiations. His bank account held scarcely a cent, but his net-worth- his capital assets- was in the trillions. After all, economics was only 1% actual currency and 99% confidence- and Inari had plenty of confidence. At this point, he was worth more than some _countries_.

He went to work on his laptop, mapping out his schedule for the next month or so- he had quite a lot to do and very little time to do it. That god forsaken tournament was approaching and he was, as expected, less than happy about it. He had been roped into it by Hotaru some years ago, as a penalty for losing a simple, stupid card game, and had been dreading it annually ever since.

He was the official 'sponsor'- i.e. the one responsible for funding the largest part of the tournament budget- the prizes. Originally, the tournament had only been based upon the promise of a monetary reward, but that had all changed once Hotaru took control. The girl had been somewhat unstoppable- only five years after winning her place as owner of the event she had taken it upon herself to maximize its profits by maximizing its value- a monetary prize was one thing, but a _wish_ was another. That was when she had dragged him, or rather _tricked _him, into becoming a part of it. As a god, he could grant actual _wishes_. Most often he was charged with the task of bringing someone back from he dead- a teammate that had died during the course of tournament or a dead child or something. One time in particular he had been forced to transform some pathetic human man into a _more_ pathetic demon man- a task that had used up a fair amount of his godly power and even more of his patience.

It was stupid. His yearly participation wasted his time, wasted his money, and, most importantly, ruined his reputation. He hated that fucking tournament and he would have hated Hotaru for dragging him into it, though he never quite found the strength to go that far. Though he would never admit it to anyone, the girl was his friend- possibly even his _closest_ friend, though he didn't like to think about that much. Having Hotaru of all people be one's best friend was about as pathetic as it gets.

There was a knock on the door and a few moments later, it opened, revealing one of his man-servants.

"Pardon me, Master Inari," the old man croaked out solemnly.

"Yes, what is it, Alfred?" Inari asked, swiveling around in his chair. The man did not react to the name, but Inari smiled nonetheless- the man's true name was _not_ Alfred, but rather Hashimoto... or perhaps Hashigama... or Hanazawa... Either way, whatever it _had_ been, it wasn't anymore. After reading the famous American comic book _Batman_, Inari had taken a liking to the name 'Alfred' for his servants and had subsequently fired all of his female staff and ordered the male staff that remained to legally change their names to Alfred, all to suit his motif. Most had quit, but he had quickly found more desperate replacements that had been willing to go along with his plan- and this guy was one of them. He was a sad-sack who only took the job to pay for... something. His daughter needed surgery or something like that- Inari didn't really know the specifics. Actually, he didn't really care.

Alfred bowed deeply. "Your guest has returned," he said, halfway to full prostration. Hotaru strode through the door only a few moments later, giving a short bow to Alfred before plopping down on the couch opposite Inari's desk. In one hand she held a beer and in the other a bag of potato chips.

"I have better food than that, you know," he said with a flat look.

Defiantly, Hotaru shoved a large handful into her mouth, and as she spoke crumbs seem to fly everywhere. "What's better than kimchi flavor?"

"Oh, I don't know, a carrot? Or really _any_ form of vegetable? Honestly, I don't understand how you survive- you must have every vitamin deficiency in the book." She paid him no mind, however, and continued to eat the chips loudly, now fully reclined on his couch. "You're going to get crumbs between the seats..." he mumbled, looking mildly disgusted.

She really didn't seem to care though. "Oh whatever, your Alfreds can clean it."

"That doesn't change the fact that you're fucking it up."

"It doesn't count as 'fucking it up' if it can be fixed later."

"I don't think that's how that works."

"Whatever."

She had come pleading to him to feed her about two weeks ago- apparently she spent all of her money on some sort of 'bug whistle'- and he had, after giving her a long lecture about personal responsibility and domestic finance, eventually decided to help her. He refused to lend her money- for fear she would just spend it on something equally ridiculous as an insect whistle- but had allowed her to come and go as she pleased in his loft in Ginza, helping herself to any food or drink she may find (save his most expensive wines). He certainly had the money to support her until the tournament came around (during which time she'd be receiving free food, drink, and lodging, since she was the proprietor), and it wasn't like she hadn't done this sort of thing before- however, this time prove to be far, _far_ more grating that he had expected.

"Genkai said she won't do it," she said, once again spitting tiny little crumbs all over his redwood coffee table. Inari tried his best to be patient, but ever since they hit that boy with his car she talked of nothing but Yusuke and his fucking friends and, worst of all, fucking _Kurama_. It was irritating, and only getting worse. Everyday there was some new complaint or new problem regarding that stupid group and he cared about absolutely _none_ of it. "I don't get what her problem is," Hotaru finished, swallowing her one mouthful and going back for another.

"What? You mean, she's not on board with the idea of giving her apprentice mystery liquid bought off the black market?" he replied, quite obviously sarcastic.

She didn't seem to get the message though. "I know right? It's like... jesus, have a little faith." He sighed, bringing two fingers to the bridge of his nose to try and quell his rising headache. "By the way, have you found Hiei yet?"

Inari looked up, confused. "Have I... have I what?"

"Have you found Hiei yet?" she asked again, as if it were the simplest concept in the world.

Inari was dumbfounded. "I haven't even been looking for him..."

"What!? Why not!?"

"You never told me to!"

She rolled her eyes. "I shouldn't have to _tell_ you these things. You should know them. It's common sense- I mean-"

"- Wait a minute," he snapped, cutting her off. "You are _not_ to lecture me about common sense when it's _you_ that enrolled him in the first place."

"I had no choice!"

"You had _every _choice."

"Who the fuck else would fight with Yusuke?" she said with a scowl. "Being Reikai's detective doesn't exactly get one a lot of friends, you know."

"Who cares about Yusuke?" he said, honestly baffled by why this girl seemed to be so invested in keeping that human/demon/whatever alive. "I told you before that you should just let that boy go- forget about whatever shitty deal you made with Raizen- but of course you chose not to listen and now, here we are."

"I _can't_ let it go," she responded, oddly serious. "If Yusuke loses then the whole thing with Hiei is bust anyway."

"For you maybe," Inari corrected.

She ignored him, however, and laid back down, shoving another handful of chips in her mouth. It looked like she was finally going to shut up, so Inari swiveled back around and continued working on the finer points of his schedule. From the looks of it he'd have back to back meetings starting tomorrow and going almost all the way up until the tournament. It was amazing what a simple weeklong engagement could do to fuck up a schedule. It also didn't help that most of the market was apparently reeling from a rather large black market purchase. He didn't know what _exactly_ had been bought, but he knew that it cost almost the equivalent of the GDP of Kuwait and that whatever it was, it had sent shares in weapons companies skyrocketing. More than likely it was some sort of grand purchase by the Black Book Club- one of the few organizations that he didn't have a business relationship with, no doubt due to the fact that they had lost all respect for him after he had been tricked into being their tournament's sponsor. Either way, it didn't really matter what the purchase had been- what mattered was how he was going to deal with it. It would take quite a bit of effort to-

"-I think I have to go hang out with Kuwabara and Kurama," Hotaru whined, interrupting Inari's train of thought. Inari bit his lip to try and control his frustration and let out a heavy sigh. Hotaru didn't seem to notice, however. "That's probably the only way I'll be able to find Hiei... but _ugh_ how annoying is that going to be?"

"I'm assuming you're about to tell me," he replied, trying to make his disinterest obvious in his tone.

"_Very_ annoying," she continued. "Kurama's been on my case like... nonstop. I told you about what he did, didn't I?"

"I don't care."

"He called me a _stalker_," she whined. Inari had already heard this story before. These new friends of hers really were making her dull. "I mean, just because I live _near_ Yusuke doesn't mean that I'm _stalking_ him. Kurama's the one that was watching him through his window that one time! He's way creepier than I am!"

"Indeed."

"What nerve that guy has... I hope the others don't believe him, but they probably will." Inari grimaced- she almost sounded _sad_ about that. She took another large handful of chips and began prattling once again with her mouth full. "Kuwabara probably won't though- not _really._ He's the nicest."

"You've said."

"Did I tell you about how he saved me that one time?" she asked excitedly.

"_Yes_."

"Oh." She seemed somewhat disappointed by this, but quickly brushed it off, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "Well, that was pretty cool of him, right?"

Inari simply rolled his eyes, huffing in disapproval. He quickly began trying to think of some way to change the subject- something, _anything_ that didn't involve those boys or that old lady or Reikai. That's when he suddenly remembered that he actually _did_ have something else to tell her and, better yet, it was sure to be something that would be thoroughly distracting. He opened one of his desk drawers, retrieving a very, _very_ thick red book- it had no title on it, nor any author listed. Hotaru had already started rambling about something- Inari wasn't paying attention so he didn't know what that something was- but when he approached the couch and threw the book onto the table she came to a short stop.

She stared down at the book and cocked an eyebrow at him. "_That's_ the rule book?"

"Yep."

"No fucking way."

"I'm afraid so."

"... Shit."

Hotaru had asked Inari to retrieve the Ankoku Tournament's rule book for her a few days ago- apparently, she was worried that if she went to get it herself and someone saw her it might seem suspicious. With Sakyou knowing full well of her bias for Team Urameshi, she had to play this particularly safe in order to avoid being overruled by the committee due to "conflict of interest". Those men were not above cheating and if she were to lose her committee seat for this year it could prove disastrous to this stupid little mission of hers. She was currently staring wide-eyed at the book however- apparently, she had never even _seen_ the rule book, much less read it.

She had been so confident a few days ago, claiming that there would be something in there to disqualify Team Toguro. Inari thought it was a long shot, but she seemed so sure of herself that he figured they should at least _look_ through the book. But with this size and Hotaru's obvious unfamiliarity with it, not to mention the text itself, which was rife with unnecessarily complicated wording and highly complex legal terms, Inari was beginning to doubt if this was really worth the effort. She picked it up, with some difficulty, and flipped through the pages. Despite being over a thousand pages long, each page was a wall of text. Hotaru was one of the fastest readers Inari knew, but even for her- finishing this particular book in two months would be a serious challenge.

Hotaru seemed to realize this as well, flopping back down again with a pained expression.

"I could always call one of my lawyers to do it for you," he offered sweetly.

She seemed to think on this, but in the end just shook her head. "No, it's fine... I'll do it."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged and moved back to his desk as Hotaru flipped to the first page. He sat down and smiled to himself- _finally_ she was busy, which meant an end to the senseless, horribly boring stories about Yusuke and his stupid friends. He opened up his email in order to finish up a letter he had started a while ago, figuring he could take advantage of his newfound peace, only to have it quickly ruined.

"I bet Kurama gives me shit about this too." This was unbelievable. He swiveled back around in his chair, looking highly unamused, though this also seemed to go unregarded. "You know what else-"

"- No, I don't," he suddenly snapped. He had tried not to- for the past few months he had been actively trying not to- but he just couldn't take this anymore. "I don't care about any of them. Not in the least."

Finally, she was catching on and actually _listening_, but rather than being understanding and apologizing, she merely shot him a glare. "What's _your_ problem?"

"My problem?" he repeated, standing once again and walking over to her. He towered over her as she lay on the couch. "My problem is that you've been prattling on about these boys for months. Are you really so desperate for friends that you'd stoop to hanging out with _them_?"

"We're not 'hanging out'," she snapped back, standing as well, though it didn't do much- Inari was still significantly taller. "This is work. This is business. I have to do this."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, _really,_" she replied with a sneer. She crossed her arms, her scowl deepening. "And I am_ not_ desperate for friends. I have lots of friends."

He scoffed. "You have lots of _business partners_. But friends? Ha! You have _zero_ friends."

"You're my friend!"

"Fine. You have one friend."

She huffed and sat back down. "Shut up! This isn't some social call or anything- I'm not with them because I want to be."

"Of course you're not."

"I'm not!"

Inari stopped, breathing deeply and allowing his temper to subside. Once he felt calm enough he turned back, trying to speak as kindly as he could muster without sounding condescending. "Why don't you just give this up, then? It's dangerous and it's stupid- what exactly could be worth all this trouble?"

"Even if I abandoned Yusuke and the rest, we'd still have to deal with Hiei," she reminded, sitting back down on the couch and looking downtrodden.

"Fuck," Inari sighed. She was right. Hiei was locked in the tournament just the same as the rest of them- the all were, in fact. Not only the boys, but Inari and Hotaru as well. _Damn those fucking contracts._

She picked up the book again, flipping through its pages once more. "This is really going to be a pain in the ass. Though I guess with a book like this there must be at least _one_ rule they're violating."

"Let's hope so." Inari was about to return to his desk again when a thought struck him. "By the way," he began. "What exactly are you planning to do? About Hiei, I mean. He doesn't really seem like the type to take advice from _anyone_, especially not you."

"I've got an idea... so long as Kurama doesn't rat me out again, it'll be fine."

Inari placed his hands in his suit pockets and looked down at her. "Believe me, Hotaru," he said in a very solemn tone. "Do not underestimate him."

"Who, Kurama? Pfff, he's not _that_ smart, don't worry," she said, as if Inari were some over-protective father.

"He is. He's deliberate and he's dangerous," he said again. "Don't trust him and don't take him lightly."

"Yessir! Will do, sir!" she replied mockingly. She then smiled up at him- that wide smile that mean she wasn't really listening. "Just relax. I'll take care of it."

Inari was still worried, but he avoided pressing the matter further. She wouldn't understand, she _couldn't_ understand what made Kurama so threatening- after all, she had faced the threat of death hundreds of times and, although surely terrified during every encounter, the type of fear a mortal experienced when dealing with death was _nothing_ compared to what immortals felt. Most, if not all gods were afraid of death. _Very_ afraid. After all, unlike humans or demons or animal spirits, they weren't _supposed_ to die. There were only three ways for a god to die- murder by another god of the same or higher rank, suicide, or, rarely, death by the use of a _shinsatsuki. _Outside of Shinkai, the use of _shinsatsuki_ was limited and they were extremely hard to find. Suicide was equally rare, although it did happen occasionally. Most gods that died were killed by another god- particularly during the time of the Divine Rebellion, when gods killing other gods became somewhat common place.

Gods, unlike beings of the lower realms, never increased in power. They never grew stronger, or weaker, though they could store or expend their energy- but over all, their power would remain stagnant throughout their lives. The only way a god could increase their power was by killing another god- by murdering another, the murderer in question would absorb and retain and divine power possessed by the victim. However, this was strictly forbidden, punishable by death, and hadn't happened once in nearly three thousand years. In fact, not a single god residing in the lower realms had even come close to being killed in any way in those three thousand years- except for Inari.

**Hotaru **

**About 16 Years Ago**

"Don't be so dramatic!"

"_I'm not being dramatic. He tried to fucking kill me_." Inari's voice sounded shaky- almost like he was sincerely frightened.

Hotaru didn't really understand why he would be though. "You need to relax, buddy. It's not like- ah, yes!" The lock that she was currently picking popped, causing the door in front of her to swing open.

"_What the hell are you doing?_"

"Nothing- don't worry about it," she replied, pocketing the two pins she had been using and removing her phone from its precarious position on her shoulder. She hated that fucking phone- yes, it was a blessing to have a mobile at all, considering that they had yet to be introduced into consumer markets within Ningenkai, but the thing weighed like 5 kilos and everything she heard over it sounded fuzzy. It also meant that anyone could reach her at any time, which normally was a good thing- but today Inari had apparently decided to have his little meltdown and, thanks to that fucking phone, he was able to bother Hotaru about it.

"_Just come over. Please?_" he whined. Even for Inari, who could occasionally act over dramatic, this was a bit extreme. It wasn't at all like him to beg for company, especially Hotaru's.

She groaned, moving swiftly through the now open apartment- it was cluttered, filled with laundry, cigarette butts, and garbage. In fact, it looked quite a bit like her own. "I don't get why you're freaking out so much."

"_Oh, I don't know,_" he replied with feigned nonchalance. "_Maybe because one of my foxes just tried to murder me?"_

"You're a god, idiot. Foxes can't kill gods," she replied while filling a glass with water from the kitchen. She went to the oven, turning it on, opening it, and then tossing the water over the inside. "Besides, I'm busy today."

"_Fuck you. I almost get killed and you're too busy?_"

She sighed, pausing for a moment and placing a hand on her hip. "Okay, seriously, what the fuck happened? Because here I was thinking you were fucking immortal."

"_I am, but... he..." _Inari's voice trailed off into inaudible mumbles.

"Speak the fuck up- I can't hear you." Swiftly, Hotaru moved back to the door of the apartment, closing it behind her and ensuring that the lock was back in place.

"_He used a shinsatsuki!_" Inari suddenly shouted.

"What the fuck is that?"

"_Never mind just hurry up and get here."_

"Okay, but you need to chill the fuck out." As she was descending the stairs of the apartment building she passed a small family. She hid the phone for a moment, not wanting to draw attention to the strange device, and gave a polite bow which was returned. By the time she was down the first flight she picked back up the phone, only to hear the tail end of some hysterical rant.

"-_So this whole time he was planning it. I swear, I'd kill Rei myself if he hadn't done it for me."_

"What? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"_... Seriously- fuck you._"

Hotaru couldn't help but laugh as she moved into a hidden alleyway next to the apartment building. "Relax, I'm on my way. You can cry all you want when I get there."

"_I'm not crying_."

"Whatever. I'll see you in a minute." She hung up the phone and withdrew a piece of charcoal from her pocket, writing the address of Inari's palace within Makai upon a wall. She then drew a circle around the address and it immediately transformed into a portal. She stepped in lightly, dragging her foot across the bottom of it once she was through and causing it to disappear.

She had arrived at the entrance to the palace- like most palaces, compounds, or other such places, there were barriers installed that blocked her ability to make a portal anywhere she liked. As such, she would be forced to walk through the palace towards Inari's main quarters where the 'attack' had taken place. Apparently he was so concerned for his own safety that he needed her to come babysit, yet was so unconcerned with _her_ safety that he had no qualms with sending her through the palace unaccompanied.

_I'm the one who can actually die, asshole._ she thought angrily, choosing to keep on her shoes as she entered the palace. She had no time for formalities- she wanted to move as quickly as possible.

The palace was of a similar style to most shinto shrines- the only real difference was that it was significantly larger. Aside from the difference in size, however, all other things were the same- sliding paper doors, smooth wooden portico, and tatami floors leading from one small room to the next. There were long hallways with wooden barred windows, tapestries hanging on some of the walls, and alcoves decorated with small Buddhist statues. Littered throughout the property there were also small gardens with pagodas, ponds, and the like within them. It even had a long series of red tori gates to signify the entrance to the property. Frankly, Hotaru found it bit cliche, but it was, as Inari had claimed, a 'sophisticated' style.

However, from the looks of it, the property was not in fantastic shape. No lights were lit throughout the entirety of the palace, it would seem, and she could vaguely make out in the darkness that many of the paper doors had been ripped, or fallen out of their tracks. The wooden portico appeared stained, though she didn't want to think about what had stained it. Walking up the steps to the entrance hall she heard soft splashing and soon realized that water was flowing freely across the floor in small streams- as well as dripping from the ceiling above. The air was thick somehow as well, though with what she didn't know. Whatever it was, it made her nose itch. The entire compound was also oddly silent, despite the fact that there had apparently been an attack. The only sounds she heard was the rustling of wind in the trees surrounding the palace, as well as the steady drip of water from the ceilings.

Heading through the first sliding paper door and into the entry hall, Hotaru suddenly stepped on something. With only the moonlight streaming through the windows she found it hard to identify what the thing on the floor was, however, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and once they did she knew why no one had been sent to accompany her. Laying across the floor, in the very first room of the palace, the two entry-way guards lay dead. Their chests were ripped clean open and from the bloody mess rose numerous stalks of bamboo that were growing unbelievably quickly- they had already begun to pierce the ceiling above. Blood flowed freely from their open chest cavities, mixing with the water that covered the tatami mat. Their expressions, from what she could make out, were not terrified, but rather quite peaceful and their skin seemed to be coated with a fine white powder.

Hotaru grimaced and wiped her now bloodied shoe on the pants of the dead man, and continued onward even more hurriedly than before. The following rooms were similar- everyone she met, no matter what their station, was dead and many of them had become fodder for plants that grew wildly. The dead men weren't so scary- there were always dead people in Makai after all. The plants, however, _were_ a bit frightening, for reasons she couldn't quite place, and as she moved her way through the palace it only got worse.

Vines climbed slowly across the paper doors, through the windows, and along the ceiling. They slithered their way across the delicate building materials and wound themselves through any holes they could find- including the windows, which resulted in less and less light the further she went inward. Bamboo, of the same speedy variety from the entry way, grew in places as well. The sound of it growing, stretching ever upwards, was painfully audible, and every stalk that pierced the ceiling above caused a series of creaks and groans from the wooden frame. The worst though, oddly enough, was the flowers. Throughout the rooms small shrubbery would grow, quickly and without warning, stretching up and out from the floor or the walls or the bodies. It would grow from seeds to full sized plants before her eyes, finally forming to flowers that almost seemed fluorescent in the darkness. And then, just as quickly as they had grown, they would wilt and the plant would fall to pieces. Soon after, they were replaced by another flowering plant growing from the seeds that had been dropped by the first- and so it continued throughout the rooms. By the time she had reached the last room it was practically a jungle.

She pushed against the large red door- the only heavy door throughout the whole palace and the one that lead to where Inari would be.

"You weren't kidding, this is-" she stopped short, however, unable to finish her sentence once the scene of the main hall came into view. "Holy shit..."

Nothing grew in here- no eerie flowers, no intimidating bamboo stalks- it looked exactly the same as it ever had except for one small difference- it was covered in blood: wall-to-wall, stains seeping into the tapestries and the carpets. On the floor lay the former members of Inari's _kotai_- his elite four-man unit of spirit foxes that he employed. They had shifted back to their birth forms once they had died, so the most Hotaru could make out were three curled up, bloodied balls of white fur, but it was enough to get the message across. She idly noticed that there was far too much blood to be from these three foxes alone.

Inari emerged from one of the corners- apparently he had been hiding, though now Hotaru was starting to get why. He looked pale, his eyes wide still- he was in shock, she guessed- and his clothes, a fine, hand-tailored three piece suit, were stained with blood as well. He walked over to her slowly, his knees seeming to shake and his gaze shifting wildly around the room. It seemed he wanted to run but he was visibly holding himself back.

"What took you so long?" he demanded, his voice low as if he were afraid someone may hear.

"What took me so long?" she repeated, giving him an incredulous look. "Have you even been out there?"

"No, why?"

"You're house is fucking totaled, dude," she answered, still somewhat in awe at how disheveled he looked. She had known Inari for a very, _very_ long time and not once had she ever seen him even close to this frightened. "There's all these fucked up plants and flowers and shit."

_"_I guess I should have expected as much," he said, his eyes still shifty. "Was anyone alive?"

"Not that I saw."

"Fuck," he muttered quietly.

Hotaru forced herself to remove her gaze from the troubled god and instead began looking around the room again. Nothing appeared to be out of place- there was no sign of any struggle, save for the massive amount of blood covering the walls. The lanterns were even still lit and steam still rose from a cup of tea on Inari's side table.

"Okay, seriously, what the fuck happened?"

"I don't know," he muttered, crossing his arms and looking uncomfortable. "He came in here-"

"- Which one?"

"Kurama."

"Ugh, I told you he'd be trouble. What the fuck were you doing hiring a notorious thief anyway? Wait- no. What were you doing hiring _f_oxes _in general_? I warned you that those things are pure fucking evil."

Inari glared at her, though he looked a bit more sad than angry. "Now really isn't the time to gloat, you know."

"Right, sorry..." she muttered, adding quietly at the end, "But I _did_ tell you."

He ignored the comment and continued rehashing the events of that night. "He came in here- must have been only about 20 or 30 minutes ago- and asked to be dismissed. He said he was tired of the work he had to do or something like that- I don't really know. Anyway, I dismissed him and then just all of a sudden..."

"Then he attacked you?"

"Well, not _me_. Not at first," Inari explained. "As soon as he was officially dismissed he attacked the other three- killed them in only a few minutes."

"God damn..."

"I thought maybe he just had some grudge against them... that maybe that was why he was leaving... but... then he attacked me, and..." He trailed off, his eyes widening further as the memory came back.

"Okay, but, I'm still confused," Hotaru said, trying to pull Inari back to the present. "_How_ did he attack you? Because, I mean- you're a god and gods can't be killed by mortals, can they?"

"He used a _shinsatsuki_."

"Okay, yea, what the fuck is that?"

"It's like a knife," he explained, using his hands to show it's approximate length- no longer than an ordinary dagger. "They're created by the Zennin-"

"- Who?"

"The residents of Zenkai."

"... Where?"

"Nevermind," he snapped suddenly. "The point is, they create these blades that, as the name implies, give one the ability to kill gods."

"Holy fuck," she replied breathlessly. "I've never heard of anything like that."

"Neither have I," he agreed. "At least- not in Makai. They've been used in attacks by the Zennin on Shinkai, but I've never heard of one being used in Makai, or any of the other realms."

"How the hell did he get one of those?" Hotaru asked in disbelief. She knew that Youko Kurama was a good thief- perhaps even the _best_ thief- but even this seemed unbelievable.

Inari just shook his head. "I have no idea. I've heard of Zennin wanders occasionally roaming the other three lower realms- he may have stolen one off of one of them. But frankly, I don't even know how he even _knew_ about them. No one does, except other gods, but we don't exactly go around _telling_ people."

"I can see why..." Hotaru replied, her eyes still transfixed on the red, dripping stains. "What if it wasn't, though?"

"What?"

"What if it wasn't real? I mean, you're obviously not dead, so..."

"Once I realized what he was doing, I fought back- the _shinsatsuki_ only work if one stabs through the heart and, thankfully, he missed."

It was then that Hotaru noticed the gash on Inari's left arm- only a few inches from his heart. Suddenly it clicked. "All this blood..."

"Yes, it's mine."

"Gods really bleed that much?"

"Well, we don't really bleed _often_, so I can't really say. But I certainly did." He visibly twitched at the thought of it.

"So, he missed..."

"And after I hit him with a curse, he ran."

"Well there's that at least," Hotaru replied with a smile.

Inari didn't seem very comforted. "That's not a _good_ thing."

"It's not?"

"No!" he shouted back. "All it means is that he's out there- somewhere- with a fucking deadly weapon, biding his time to try to kill me again!"

He really was hysterical, but Hotaru really wasn't sure what to do to calm him down. She really didn't do well with this kind of situation and emotional support was certainly not her forte. "So..." she began awkwardly. "... What're you going to do?"

"What?" he replied, almost seeming angry. "_I_ am not going to do anything. _You_, on the other hand-"

"- Wait, _me_?"

"Of course! Why do you think I called you?"

She snorted in derision. "You expect _me_ to kill this guy? A member of your _elite forces_? You have to be kidding."

"Use Yojimbo."

"Do you have 100 million yen?"

"Not after all of this!"

Hotaru shrugged. "Well, I don't either, so."

"If you can't do it, find someone else to."

"Like _who_?"

"Talk to Enma."

"_You_ talk to Enma. This is _your_ problem, after all," she retorted. Perhaps it was a bit insensitive but she had plenty of other things to do and it's not like he was going to be busy or anything. WIth the entirety of his staff dead and his property destroyed his schedule must have freed up somewhat. At the very least, he couldn't be as busy as she was.

Inari, however, didn't seem to care about her schedule. "I stand a better chance if you do it."

"But _you're_ the god, not me. He's not going to listen to me about something like this."

"I may be somewhat close to Koenma, but Enma..." he struggled to find the right words momentarily, before continuing, ".. He isn't exactly my biggest fan."

"What did you do?" she asked, looking at him suspiciously through a narrowed gaze.

Inari played ignorant, however, and just shrugged before looking back at her with pitiful eyes. "Please Hotaru. I... I just want this mess taken care of."

Hotaru closed her eyes and mulled it over. She didn't have a lot of time to spare these days, and she certainly didn't want to waste any of her newly founded clout at Reikai- especially not if there was a chance she'd be reprimanded for her connection to Inari. However, this _did_ sound like a serious threat and he _was_ her friend- really, her only friend. And he _had_ helped her out quite a lot in the past.

Finally, she gave a heavy sigh, shaking her head in resignation. "I'll tell him what happened and get you a meeting, but that's it, okay?" she demanded. "I'm not getting mixed up in this shit. I want no part of it, understand?"

Inari looked fairly dissatisfied, but seemed to accept the terms. "Fine."

"Good!" she exclaimed happily. She smiled at him- a smile that went wholly unreturned- and gave him a thumbs up. "Now, let's go get drunk!"

* * *

Shinsatsuki - 神察機 - "God Killing Mechanism" - small blades that have the power to kill gods. Extremely rare; created and used by the Zennin of Zenkai.

Kotai - 狐隊 (abbreviation of Koreitai - 狐霊隊) - "[Good] Spirit Fox Corps" - Inari's elite four-man team of foxes (a position that is no longer filled). They did his biding and were bound to him by a divine contract.

Zenkai - 禅界 - lit. "Zen World" - the fourth of the five realms (other realms including Makai (魔界), Ningenkai (人間界), Reikai (霊界), and Shinkai [God World - 神界])

Zennin - 禅人 - lit. "Zen People" - the residents of Zenkai.

Yojimbo/Yōjinbō - 用心棒 - lit. "bodyguard" - a fallen god that is contracted to fight for Hotaru in exchange for money, in any form of currency. The cost is equivalent to that of the strength or ranking of the opponent. Strong foes are more expensive than weak, kings are more expensive than commoners, humans are more expensive than demons (as per the Three World Rotation theory, which is explained in later arcs).


	4. Chapter 4: Swords Drawn and Bows Bent

**Hotaru**

She closed her eyes and cringed, waiting for the bomb to drop. Any second now, she knew their conversation would erupt—angry glares, threats, maybe even physical retaliation.

She had come bearing the news that she'd be hanging around Kuwabara and Kurama's training grounds until Hiei made an appearance or, if that never happened, possibly up until the start of the tournament. Though she hadn't been too happy about it, she had pretended to be, and managed to convince Kuwabara it would be 'fun'. Now that she had him on her side she imagined that, after a bit of a fight, Kurama would come around eventually. But she wasn't naïve enough to think he'd be nice about it.

She waited, tried to anticipate what would come. Would he argue? Would he attempt to discredit her again? Or would he just straight up hit her this time?

"That's fine with me."

She looked up instantly. He was smiling. The fucker was _smiling_. And not some threatening, I'm-going-to-kill-you-and-enjoy-it smile. A polite one. A friendly one. It was off-putting.

"Are… are you sure?" she asked quietly, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He responded with a shrug. "I don't see any problem with it, so long as you don't interfere with Kuwabara's training."

She stared, somewhat shocked but mostly fearful. Kuwabara, quite obviously ignorant of the tension, gave her a friendly slap on the back. "See? I told you he'd be fine with it!"

Kurama continued to smile at her while she continued to stare. They held this position for quite a while until, probably realizing this conversation was at an abrupt end, Kurama turned towards the field. "Well, then," he began awkwardly. "I suppose we should get started."

He walked out toward the field, followed by Kuwabara, but stopped when Hotaru called out to him, "Wait! Hold on a minute!" Her voice was somewhat uneven, betraying her confusion, but the two boys seemed to not pick up on it. Either that, or they were purposefully choosing not to acknowledge it.

"Is there a problem?" Kurama asked kindly.

She cringed a bit at his polite tone, but recovered quickly enough and jogged out to meet them. "I just want to make sure we're clear…" The two remained silent, so Hotaru continued—speaking slowly and as precisely as she could. "I'm going to be hanging around here… Every day. With you guys."

"That's the impression I had."

"Just until Hiei shows up…"

"Whatever's most convenient for you."

"So I'll be hanging around here."

"You said that already."

"Uh, right…" she stuttered. "I figured this would be the best place to find him… Hiei, that is."

"You're probably right."

"Yea…" Her eyes narrowed. "I am…"

She continued to eye the fox for quite some time. Again, he awkwardly began to turn back towards the field. "So, we're going to start our training now…"

Her eyes narrowed further. "Yea…"

"… If that's alright with you?"

"Totally."

"Well… okay then."

The two began to walk away again before, once more, they stopped as Hotaru called out. "Okay, what the fuck is your problem!?"

Kuwabara seemed taken aback by the outburst, but Kurama merely laughed. "I don't know why you seem to think I'd have a problem with this."

"Oh, I don't know," she snapped back. "Maybe because you hate me?"

He gave her a pitiful smile. "I don't hate you, Hotaru."

"Yes you do."

"Jeez, calm down, Hotaru," Kuwabara chided with an uncomfortable grin. "Kurama's a nice guy—I don't think he even _could_ hate anyone."

"Oh that's not true," Kurama admitted kindly, letting out another light laugh.

Hotaru charged forward angrily, pointing an accusatory finger directly at the fox. "You do! You hate me! Why are you pretending you don't?"

"As I said, I don't hate you. I don't know where you would have gotten that idea."

"Come on, get off it, Hotaru. What did Kurama ever do to you?"

"He tried to kill me, that's what!" she screeched.

Kuwabara turned to Kurama, looking even more shocked than before. "What!? You really tried to kill her?!"

"Well, that's a bit out of context, and it was a long time ago," the fox replied coolly. "It turned out to merely be a misunderstanding."

"Bullshit! First of all, it was _two months ago_, and second of all, 'misunderstandings' don't throw people off of buildings. Assholes with mommy-complexes do." Even this didn't seem to disturb the fox, however, and he just laughed again. Hotaru glared at him, "Not to mention that just _a week ago_ you tried to fucking sabotage me!"

"Huh?!"

"That's a gross oversimplification."

"Would someone please tell me what you guys are talking about!?" Kuwabara demanded, his tone beginning to match Hotaru's—crazy and somewhat desperate.

"He tried to sabotage me!" she repeated, still pointing angrily at the fox. "He slandered me, and all because he wanted to steal favor with Koenma!"

"Hotaru—" Kurama began, looking almost amused.

However, he was interrupted by Kuwabara. "Kurama wouldn't do that! He's a part of our team—he's not a bad guy!"

"Oh my god, you're like a fucking Sailor Scout," Hotaru droned, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"He isn't!" the boy persisted.

Now she took her turn to scowl at him instead. "The only reason he did all that stuff for Yukina was to make me look bad!"

"I'm not that petty…"

"You are!"

"There's no way!" Kuwabara replied, incredulous. "Kurama did all that stuff because he wanted to _help_ Yukina! And besides, he already apologized, so it doesn't count."

"Right—and what a heartwarming affair _that_ was," Hotaru spat back sarcastically. "I still can't believe you guys fell for that! He's faking! He's just trying to turn you against me!"

"You're crazy…" Kuwabara replied, dumbstruck. He turned to Kurama—who still looked rather frustratingly unperturbed—and pleaded with him. "Kurama, tell her she's crazy."

"She's not crazy," Kurama stated, seemingly sympathetic. "I would say she's a bit paranoid, though."

"Right! Paranoid!" Kuwabara chimed in agreement.

"She must be overworked."

She flinched at the thinly veined insult, and her glare deepened further. "So you're denying that you tried to ruin my reputation?"

"Really, Hotaru, you shouldn't take things so personally."

"That's not denying it…"

He paused, his vibrant green eyes catching the light and his smile twitching ever so slightly into a grin.

But the pause was short lived and he spoke again on the next beat. "We're wasting time. I've already explained that I have no problem with you being here. However, if _you _have problem with you being here, then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that."

She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming at him, but she held her ground.

"Yea, let's get started. I've had enough of arguing," Kuwabara agreed with a heavy, tired sigh.

"You can relax," Kurama laughed. "Even if you have a problem with me, our training will take up nearly all the time we spend here, so I won't be a bother to you. And I suspect that book of yours can provide you with plenty of distraction."

She had almost forgotten about her book- which was surprising considering its weight. She had brought along the rule book for just that purpose—to fill her time. She imagined she'd have a lot of it—Hiei probably wouldn't be showing up anytime soon. "I guess so."

"Might I inquire as to what it is?" the fox asked, cocking his head to the side in some vague attempt to make the question appear innocent.

She clutched its cover tightly. She had to keep what she was doing a secret—should the committee find out that she was trying to sabotage another team in favor of the invitees, she'd be barred from participating on the board this year. Of course, even if that wasn't the case, she didn't want to tell _him_ of all people. Even if it _were_ just a book to read for fun, he'd just ruin it—probably tell her the ending or something. Or burn it. Or… other terrible things.

"It's a book," she snapped, in reference to his previous question.

"I meant, what sort of book is it? What is it about?"

"Nothing."

"It's a rather large book to be about nothing."

She flinched, and looked away. "It's about… the…" she struggled for an answer—she didn't read many books after all—and finally slurred one out quietly. "The Genpei Wars…"

"The what?" Apparently Kuwabara read even less than she did.

"It was a war during the Heian period between the Minamoto and Taira clans. It helped establish the Kamakura shogunate," Kurama explained patiently. He turned back to Hotaru, a slight smirk on his face. "Apparently Hotaru is quite the history buff."

"That's me…" she replied through clenched teeth.

"Should be quite an interesting read."

"You bet."

"Well, if you're going to be reading, I saw a rather nice spot for it," he began politely and with yet another friendly smile. He extended a hand, pointing off to the East. "Hotaru, do you see that rock over there?"

She reluctantly turned, spying a rock on the edge of the clearing and pointing to it as well. "That one?"

"No, that one," he corrected. She followed his finger to another rock—one that just so happened to be far, _far_ beyond the clearing—hardly within view.

She snapped back to him, scowling yet again. "Are you fucking joking?"

"Oh my god, again!?" Kuwabara pleaded. "You said you weren't going to interfere and all this fighting definitely counts as interference!"

She grinned her teeth together as Kurama gave a light shrug in agreement. "He does have a point."

"Now stop getting on Kurama's case so we can get started!" the boy demanded, his temper finally lost.

He then began an angry march out onto the field and Hotaru slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Fine," she mumbled with a pout. "I'll be in the woods then… Far away… and _alone_."

"Good!" The boy grumbled. "At least then you two will stop fighting. I swear, you two are worse than me and my sister…"

As she turned to walk away, she gave one last sneer at Kurama, who, as he had been, looked back at her with his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile.

"This isn't mean to be a slight against you," he assured in a smooth tone.

"Yea, of course not."

"It isn't," he continued his smile growing slightly "We'll be using some long-range techniques. It's for your safety."

She stopped, challenging him with her gaze—a sign she hoped would express that she didn't believe a word of his bullshit. And as she did, the wind picked up suddenly. She would have hated herself for it had she realized how intently she watched his hair be carried by that wind—blown out and then behind him before falling into a disheveled, yet somehow elegant array of red locks obscuring his gaze.

However, if she hadn't been watching, she may well have missed the sudden, though minute, change. What was friendly turned wicked, what was polite turned malicious, and when he spoke again, his tone held no hint of kind intent.

"It's safer there, Hotaru," the fox insisted, his eyes threatening and his voice almost at a whisper. "It's dangerous for you to be near us."

**Jin**

"_Mashoutsukai_… What does it mean?"

"'Messenger of Malevolence.'"

"Oh…"

"You seem disappointed!"

Jin looked up, meeting the old man directly. Butajiri, their team sponsor and a member of the higher echelons of the Black Book Club, had a wide grin on his face, apparently quite pleased with the team name he had crafted to represent them. Jin wasn't entirely sure if he agreed with the tone of it, but after some consideration decided not to push the matter.

"S'fine with me, I suppose."

"Glad to hear it!" the man bellowed. He sat across from Jin, while the other members of the newly dubbed Team Mashotsukai remained behind him. It was odd positioning—after all, being team leader meant they should stand behind _him_, shouldn't they? But this as well he chose not to complain about.

"Now, I've arranged rooms for all of you here at my hotel. No expense has been spared and everything is included, so feel free to treat yourselves," Butajiri explained in an overly sweet tone. "There is a gym in the basement that I've had reserved specifically for your use, so make sure to stay sharp. Hah, we don't want you getting _too _pampered do we?"

Though it was said in jest, it betrayed how little confidence the man really had in them.

"Eh, I don't think we'll need to practice," Jin remarked coolly. Though this wasn't at all true, it had been worth it to lie- his ears perked up ever so slightly when the man across from him began to sweat and sputter a bit in response.

"W-well, whatever you think is appropriate."

Risho stepped up with a dramatic bow. "You can trust us, Mr. Butajiri. We will not fail you."

Jin flinched, but otherwise kept quiet. Risho had so far taken a number of chances to speak out of turn and the more he did it, the more irritated Jin became. Back with the Shinobi, Risho had been a leader of his own team—albeit one far less infamous than Jin's own—and he had apparently not taken well to the idea of being Jin's subordinate. They had initially decided who would lead their new group with a vote. Seeing as how both Touya and Gamma were of Jin's unit previously, he had won by narrow majority.

Still, Risho still wasn't backing down and Jin was unsure what to do in order to make him. Truthfully, he was unsure if he even cared enough to try.

"I know you won't,"Butajiri said in response to Risho, before letting out a low, guttural laugh. "With Shinobi fighting for me I don't stand a chance at losing!"

Jin didn't like the way Butajiri spoke, and he liked the way he laughed even less. Feeling suddenly aggravated, he stood, drawing their meeting to a quick end. "I think we've covered everything…"

"Yes, no reason to draw this out longer than it needs to be," he replied. "You five can go. I'll contact you once I hear more about the lineup."

"Thanks." Jin headed towards the door, assuming the other four would fall in line behind him. However, he noticed Risho hanging back. "You coming?"

"In a minute," Risho replied, obviously disaffected. "I've been considering starting my own business after this tournament is won, and I can't help but feel Mr. Butajiri would be an invaluable asset as a mentor—seeing as how he's the very image of financial success."

"Oh you flatter me," Butajiri laughed with a sheepish grin.

_Does he think I'm stupid? _Jin wondered. When he had accepted Risho and Bakuken's request to join his team, he had done so out of necessity, but as the days progressed he found himself growing more and more tired with their antics. Actually, he found himself growing more and more tired with _everything_. He had expected to feel invigorated after finally leaving—after finally taking his life into his own hands—but the languid days that followed had been draining. He didn't want to deal with this tournament, or their sponsor—he didn't want to deal with the responsibilities of being a leader once again. He didn't really want to do anything.

And, he especially didn't want to deal with Risho. He turned, moving again towards the door and keeping his tone relatively polite. "Fine. We start practice at six tomorrow morning."

"Six?" Risho repeated. "Doesn't that seem a bit late?"

Jin turned yet again, this time making no attempt to hide his rage from his teammate. "We'll make it five, then."

Risho grinned—undoubtedly in an attempt to challenge him. "Sounds perfect. I'll see you then, captain."

* * *

"I really don't trust him," Touya admitted quietly, folding his clothes and neatly placing them in the drawers provided.

Jin stood across the room, leaning against the large window pane that made up the fourth wall. They were on the 67th floor of the hotel—only one below the top floor—and had each been given a personal suite. Despite this, Jin had chosen to hang around in Touya's room while the younger man unpacked, feeling somewhat listless yet still unable to just sit around alone.

"It's nothing to worry about," Jin replied. "He wants to win as much as we do. If anything ruins our chance, it won't be him."

"Still though," Touya persisted. "It's shameful the way he acts."

"Yea, I guess."

"Pardon me for suggesting this, but I think you should say something."

Jin turned and almost laughed at the serious expression his companion wore, but in the end his apathy overcame even that. "We're not Shinobi anymore. It doesn't matter to me how he acts."

"However we _are_ Team Mashotsukai—his behavior reflects on all of us."

_What a stupid name…_ Jin sighed and resumed staring out the window. Stretched out below them lay the city of Tokyo, reaching practically off into the horizon in a vast see of buildings, streets, and power lines. It was a scene he was used to—his unit had been primarily based in Tokyo after all, but he couldn't help but feel something about it was different.

He peered down, moving past the grandness of the view and focusing instead on the tiny details. There were people—lots of people—though from this distance he couldn't tell how many were actual humans and how many were merely demons in disguise. He found himself attempting to identify imposters before he realized that it was entirely unnecessary. That wasn't his job anymore. He didn't _have_ a job anymore.

"Are you alright?"

Jin snapped out of his reverie to find Touya looking worried. He offered him a weak smile and shook his head to imply he was just fine. Touya didn't seem convinced, however, and moved, picking up a small menu placed on his bedside table.

"They really do have all sorts of things here," he mumbled wide eyed. "Are you hungry? Looks like they have some really nice stuff and… hey, do you know what 'wagyu' is? It looks like meat but—"

"—Let's go somewhere."

Touya looked up, seemingly a bit surprised. "Ah, yea. We could check out that gym Mr. Butajiri told us about. I'm a little worried it might be too small, considering the size of-"

"—No, not there," Jin continued, feeling a bit of his perk return at the idea of being impulsive. He signaled out the window. "Somewhere out there."

"Ah… like… where, exactly?"

"Anywhere."

"Um…"

"Get dressed," Jin ordered, moving quickly to leave and get himself changed as well.

Touya stared on wide eyed, struggling to get a handle on the situation. "I still need to unpack—"

"—Do it later."

"—But where are we—"

"—_Anywhere,_" Jin repeated. He felt his blood start flowing again and, for the first time in a while he smiled almost genuinely. "Anywhere we want."

**Kurama**

The sun shone boldly through the bamboo stalks surrounding their training ground—its final burst before it would be hidden behind the horizon. He walked alone with Kuwabara through the trees at a quick yet relaxed pace. Hotaru had left them only moments before, opting to use a portal she created rather than suffer the walk.

Kuwabara had been quite surprised by her ability, as one would expect. To those of them bound firmly to one dimension at a time such things were quite the sight. Even Kurama had been impressed when he first saw it—though foxes possessed a similar ability, it was nowhere near as convenient. They possessed the ability to transport themselves to and from particular places, which did allow for interdimensional crossings as well as travelling instantaneously across large distances, but it also meant that one had to know where to _find_ those spots.

Thankfully, within Japan such spots were numerous—it was one of a few regions within Ningenkai that possessed an abnormally strong connection to the other worlds (or perhaps abnormally weak, depending on the variable from which it was examined). However, these spots were also common sites for Shinto shrines and many of those shrines belonged to or venerated Inari. Whether that was purposeful and he had claimed them at some point in time or whether it was merely coincidence, Kurama was unsure—yet he avoided them all the same.

He didn't mind walking, however. It was nice weather, and a good opportunity to stretch his legs. Plus, he rather enjoyed his company—though Hiei found Kuwabara to be rather tiresome, no doubt due to the fact that the boy exemplified every aspect of human idealism, Kurama actually enjoyed those aspects. His former life had been spent amongst jaded criminals or ruthless fighters, and his human life had so far been spent with kind, similarly idealistic, yet all together ignorant humans. Kuwabara was a pleasant mix of the two—knowledgeable, at least somewhat, of the underworld, yet upbeat enough to retain his inherent human morals.

And now, more than anything, he needed that positivity.

As they walked, he hid his hands in his pockets. Though it made his gait somewhat less smooth, it was the only way to thoroughly hide a perpetual twitch he had developed in his right hand. Although he doubted the boy would ascribe any sort of deeper meaning to the twitch—truly he doubted there was any deeper meaning at all—he felt best keeping it a secret.

It had developed merely moments after he spotted the girl. He had arrived a few minutes later than Kuwabara, but apparently within those few minutes Hotaru had not only managed to invite herself to their meetings but had also managed to win Kuwabara to her side. From the position she held in Reikai, as well as her numerous underworld connections, it was not much to assume that the girl was quite capable of negotiating. But to Kurama, such a reality was baffling—after all, despite what positions she may have held, she seemed so terribly _bad_ at holding her own in confrontation.

So far he had managed to not only beat her physically, but to beat her psychologically—and both with relative ease. Though he was aware that he was not the typical opponent—far more versed in matters of deceit as well as combat than most were—he found the idea that she had somehow gained so much off of such poor skill unfathomable.

What was even more peculiar was just how _angry_ this really made him. Truly, his temper had been getting the best of him as of late- when his mother had fallen ill he had quite lost sight of himself, and even after her recovery he found his patience lacking and his composed exterior crumbling ever so slightly. But particularly around _her_ he found it difficult to control himself. It was a feeling that he wasn't used to, and that in itself angered him, pushing him into a cycle of compounding frustration.

"Thanks for all your help."

Kurama looked up at Kuwabara briefly before bowing his head lightly while keeping pace. "You have nothing to thank me for. Your improvements will be your own responsibility and yours alone—I'm merely here to guide you."

"Still though," the boy continued. "It's only been a week but I already feel a lot stronger. I don't think I would have made it this far without you."

"I think you'd be surprised what you can accomplish on your own."

"Jeez, just take the compliment already," Kuwabara groaned, inciting a laugh from Kurama.

"Are you feeling better about everything, then?"

"Yea, kind of, I guess…"

"You shouldn't worry."

"You think so?" He sounded hopeful and smiled broadly. "Maybe I'm strong enough already, yea?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Kurama laughed again. "I merely meant that worrying is a fruitless endeavor."

"Oh…"

"Sorry."

Kuwabara sighed. "It's okay. You're right. I just need to focus on making myself stronger! And if I win, I win, and if I lose… I, um…"

"You don't need to say it."

"Yea…"

The boy's optimism fell, and their brief conversation fell with it. They walked in silence, each mulling over the tournament and what it may mean for themselves, as well as what it may mean for the rest of their team.

Kurama felt the twitch again.

There was a possibility that this twitch—that this growing frustration—was not due to Hotaru or her presence. However, the other possibility was even _more_ upsetting. During his time in Ningenkai he had not merely been laying around—indeed, the first half of his human life had been spent preparing to return to his demon one. But the past seven or so years had been far more peaceful.

He had killed demons during that time, to be sure. He had fought and destroyed the countless opponents that gathered to Meiou to test their strength against the 'mysterious human', and had done so without any form of regrets or ambivalence. However, never in that time when he served as protector of his city had he felt he was truly returning to his old ways. There was violence, yes, and there was deceit, and lying, and all those other elements that were so common in his former life, but something about them had been different. The _intent_ had been different.

Now, he felt his motivations may have been changing—and he was uncomfortably fearful of that. Since he had stolen those items with Hiei and Gouki, he had done some needless things—things he perhaps shouldn't have. Though his original intention had been to merely save his mother, after her recovery things took a turn.

He got his position to work for Reikai in order to maintain his human life. That was his most prized possession now and wasn't something he was going to give up on without a fight. And he had fought for Hiei as well out of concern for his friend—though, to be fair, he had given up rather quickly once he realized that the small demon's stubbornness was going to get the better of him. Those had all been decisions he made with the same intent as before—with _Shuuichi Minamino_'s intent.

However, there were other things he had done that he felt could only be attributed to the intent of his youko persona.

It was Koenma who had ordered him to go fight within Yusuke against the Four Saint Beasts, but Kurama was self-aware enough to realize he had, somewhat without meaning to, put the idea in the young god's head. That was for Yusuke's benefit—to repay his kindness on the night Kurama used the mirror. However, there was something else behind it as well, albeit small. He didn't go begrudgingly, or out of a sense of obligation—he went because he _wanted_ to. And although there were some hiccups, he would be a fool to deny he had enjoyed the mission.

And when he had created his plot to free Yukina and reveal Hotaru for what she was, he had told himself it was out of a duty to his friend. He had the responsibility to use the position of power he had cultivated to help those around him. However, with that too there had been something else—a _different_, yet wholly familiar motivation.

Hotaru had been right—he had done it to win Koenma's favor and discredit her. And though that was only a small part of it, it had been the part he had enjoyed the most. Though it had been nice seeing Hiei finally meet his sister face-to-face, he had found much more pleasure in the look on Hotaru's face when she had been found out. He found even _greater_ pleasure in the fact that he had been called back afterwards to speak with Koenma about the incident, and even greater pleasure than that in the fact that Hotaru had been specifically uninvited to their private meeting.

He was climbing the rungs in Reikai at a much faster rate than expected, and was thoroughly enjoying doing so. The game of it all was practically intoxicating—but as with all intoxicating things, there was a limit that, if crossed, could not be uncrossed. And he feared he was reaching that limit.

He needed to remember what it was he had initially set out to do. He needed to remember that he wasn't here to play or to fight or to win, but to _protect_—to protect his mother, to protect himself, and to protect the new life he had made. He needed to protect his newfound peace.

And the girl, Hotaru, seemed to serve as the perfect reminder of how far he had strayed from this goal.

Perhaps it was because she was so intimately involved with all of the past happenings, and at the same time so uninvolved in all other aspects of his life, that he found her presence so grating. The others, though similarly involved, were also people he would consider friends. They had light hearted conversation from time to time, and in the case of his 'teammates', they even spent their free time together. However, she was _not_ a part of that group—she wasn't even a real employee of Reikai, in the sense that she held no real loyalties to them. It was impossible to separate her from the heavier things he was dealing with, and it was because of that, that she was able to drag him back into his old habits so quickly.

Perhaps it was also that, in many ways, she was quite similar to who he had been. Treacherous, disloyal, and seemingly without guilt. Though she claimed to be on their side, and had so far proven to be working towards no other goal than protecting them, he couldn't for the life of him figure out _why_ she wanted to protect them and that was reason enough to distrust her. Even if her motivation was genuine—or at least not malicious—her methodology was strikingly similar to the callousness he had one demonstrated himself. And being on the other side of such behavior was not only insulting, but it was rather difficult to watch.

Or, perhaps—and this seemed the most likely conclusion—she was just generally irritating. How could someone have gotten so far, while being so bad at what they do? How could someone remain so confident when it was plainly obvious they were about to lose? How could someone be so fearless when they clearly had so much to fear? And why was it that he of all people, one who had lived over 1000 years composed and clear headed, found himself asking these questions over and over and over again?

It was frustrating—his situation, her presence, and, most of all, the thrill he seemed to get from all of it.

"Earth to Kurama! Hey! Are you even alive in there?" Kurama snapped his head up, meeting the confused gaze of his companion and kicking himself for going so deep into thought that he hadn't noticed his surroundings. They had already arrived at the station and would be boarding separate trains. Kuwabara grinned. "Thinkin about some girl?"

Kurama gave him an unamused, yet friendly smile in return. "I was merely remembering something."

"Oh yea? What?"

"Nothing important."

"If you say so," the boy shrugged, though from his expression Kurama could tell he still believed Kurama's thoughts had been of a more deviant nature.

"I'm sorry for being so preoccupied," Kurama admitted reluctantly. "Were you bored on the walk back?"

"Nah, not really. I kinda had my own things to think about."

"Did you consider what I said?"

"Yea, and I know you're right but… well, it's kind of hard not to worry, even if I know it won't do any good. You know what I mean?"

"I'm afraid I do."

"But I'm keeping positive!" He suddenly exclaimed, offering a thumbs-up and a wide grin. "They can break my bones but they can't break my spirit!"

The boy was practically a caricature of himself, but nevertheless Kurama found it uplifting. "We'll need that optimism."

"Hey, don't expect me to pull all the weight," Kuwabara replied with a scowl. "I can't have you spacing out all the time! Our teams gonna be depressing enough with Yusuke all freaked out and Hiei… well, being Hiei."

"I suppose you're right," Kurama laughed. "I'll make an effort not to."

"Right on," Kuwabara said with such seriousness that Kurama almost laughed again. Thankfully he held himself back—the boy had enough people laughing at him, and Kurama didn't want him getting discouraged or self-conscious. They already had enough hurdles to overcome.

"Alright well my train leaves in a few minutes," the boy said with a glance to the clock. He headed towards his platform. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Same time."

"Try not to be late again, okay?" Kuwabara requested, his face twisting into a grimace. "I don't wanna be stuck talking to Hotaru again. Especially not if she's still feeling crazy."

"I'll be on time," Kurama replied. Kuwabara waved wildly and Kurama returned it with a more contained wave of his own, before turning the other direction towards his own platform. As he walked, he felt himself uplifted, even if only slightly, and found himself coming back fully to present and out of his rather intense inner monologue. However, he wasn't entirely carefree. Even if he was feeling better, he still couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

He had lied. He'd be late again tomorrow. In fact, he was planning on making a habit out of it- he doubted he would be on time again, or at least not for a while. Kuwabara would just have to suffer through it.

After all, he didn't want to be stuck talking to her, either.


	5. Chapter 5: Kanon's Mercy

**A/N: **I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has made it this far and dealt with me and my irregular updates. I just love that there are people out there that read this crap and comment on it and support it and it's just awesome.

I just can't wait to break your souls with what's to come.

* * *

**Kurama**

_16 Years Ago_

Red. Then a flash of light, and then more red. Quick breathing, and an insatiable need to move, yet a maddening inability to do so. He pushed himself, further and further, begging something, _anything_ to move. He didn't quite know what—his head was foggy. A mix of anxiety, frustration, and, somewhere deeper, a sense of panic. Yet he still found himself trying, caught up in a whirlwind of delirium and dreaming.

Soon, however, he found that he _wasn't_ dreaming. At least not really. He was awake, laying in a bed, tangled in a heavy blanket. And even as he realized he was awake, the delirium persisted. Awareness came slowly, and once it had arrived its presence was tentative.

He hadn't expected to wake up. After letting go, deep in those woods, he never thought his eyes would open again. And, when they finally did, he never expected to be where he was. Truthfully, he didn't fully know where he was, but he certainly knew it wasn't a place he ought to be. If anywhere, he thought he might wake up behind bars, or buried in the ground. He thought that if he were to be woken up, it would be from pain inflicted by one of his many enemies, or by an interrogator of Inari's. But now, there were no bars, there were no weapons, and, seemingly, there were no enemies.

He was in a dark room. Or at least it seemed dark at first—but slowly things around him began to make sense and he realized it was merely dimly lit. A single candle burned in the corner—short and sitting in a pool of its own wax. The space was small and the paint on the walls appeared to be peeling. As his eyes adjusted and his delirium subsided somewhat, he realized that it was lacking in furniture as well. The futon he lay in was placed upon the floor—hardly furniture—and it was the only piece there, except for the candle. And except for him.

And, as he realized soon, except for one other.

"You're awake," the voice spoke quietly, speaking from a corner still shrouded in shadow.

Kurama tried to peer into the darkness, but his head was pounding and wouldn't allow him to focus. Thankfully, the figure slowly crept forward, crawling on its hands and knees. At first, he assumed it some form of lower demon beast—perhaps they had been waiting for him to wake so they could kill him while he'd be able to feel the pain.

He was wrong however, and as the figure crawled into the light he discovered it appeared to be nothing more than a young boy—a child. Appearances where deceiving however, particularly within the Makai, so he kept his guard up.

"Who are you?" he demanded, though his voice came out weak and cracked from disuse.

The child looked up at him, his eyes wide and demeanor submissive. "I… um… I'm… Shouta…"

"Shouta?" Kurama repeated.

The boy bowed deeply, his forehead almost hitting the floor. He mumbled softly, obviously terrified, but Kurama said nothing to calm him. After a few moments of helpless stuttering, words finally came to the boy, though they were spoken at practically a whisper. "… I saved you."

His anger spiked, but he forced down his rage and instead regarded the boy with the same suspicious look as before. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I… I, um… uh…" The boy was at a loss for words, his forehead still hovering only a few centimeters above the dirty floor of the small room. Suddenly he straightened, his expression fixed in an impulsive sense of determination. When he spoke, he practically shouted, but the fear was still apparent in his voice. "You were passed out in the woods near here! I brought you here so you could get better!"

The boy was visibly shaking, and his determined face soon weakened and began to degenerate into one of panic. Once again, Kurama made no effort to comfort him and instead turned away, looking towards the ceiling which, similarly, remained out of focus.

After a long silence, the boy approached further, albeit at a slow and cautious pace.

"Are… are you okay?" he asked softly. Even if appearances were deceiving, his demeanor seemed quite childlike. Kurama was quite good at reading people—it was one of his many skills that he prided himself on—but even so the most he could sense from the boy was a small and frightened child.

If what the boy said was true—if he really _had_ saved him—Kurama wasn't quite sure he was happy about that. Laying down and dying alone in the woods had been his choice to make, and whoever had stopped him from that would pay for disregarding his wishes. Furthermore, the fact that this was only a small child, seemingly wishing to help, only made things worse. A demon seeking revenge or glory was one thing—that was something he could understand. But a child saving him merely because he wanted to help was not only annoying, but also quite patronizing.

Nevertheless, he turned to the boy, his displeasure apparent on his face. "Me?" he laughed, albeit it strained. "I'm fine, of course."

"Oh…" the boy seemed confused, and looked him over a bit before giving an awkward, accepting smile. "Well, I guess if you say so."

"You're disappointed by that?"

The boy began to sweat again. "Of course not! That was what I wanted to happen… it's just… um… you don't seem…"

Kurama gave him a hard, penetrating stare, in the hopes of determining the boy's motivation, but the young child was too scared and averted his eyes, bunching his hands into fists around his shorts. As the boy looked around nervously, Kurama kept his gaze firmly planted, studying each of his movements. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable pause, he spoke.

"Who do you work for?" the fox demanded, sounding slightly more threatening than intended.

He visibly tensed, sitting straight upright and with his shoulders back, as if he were a soldier or something. "I don't have a job!"

Kurama's gaze narrowed. "I mean—who sent you here?"

"Uh…"

"Who sent you after me?"

"Um… no one, really," the boy admitted quietly. He shuffled a bit, looking away embarrassed. "I just… I saw you and…"

"And?"

"And I thought I'd take care of you…"

Though his expression did not betray it, Kurama was quite conflicted. Though he still regarded him suspiciously, he was beginning to truly believe this was no more than a little, curious, _stupid_ boy. Everything about him just screamed boyish innocence—his voice, his manners, his movements… his foolish bravery in a situation that, to anyone with even a drop of sense, would have seemed hopelessly dangerous.

He wanted to kill him.

He wanted to summon whatever demon seeds he had left on him and wrap them around this foolish boy's skinny neck. He was _Youko Kurama_, not some stray cat one let's in when it rains. The boy, even in his ignorance, should know that or at the very least be able to _sense_ that. The fact that he couldn't was irritating, and so Kurama sought to deal with this annoyance as he did all annoyances—strike it quick and watch it die.

However, as he attempted to summon his power something stopped him. Something began to rattle—_he_ began to rattle. He could hear it in his head and it felt as if he bones were moving out of place. Then, the familiar blinding white overtook his vision and sharp waves of pain rushed repeatedly up his spine and out even to his fingertips. The waves came in quick succession, growing in strength and duration until finally something snapped—he _felt_ it snap. Then, blackness.

**Hiei**

_One Month Till the Tournament_

It had been almost a month since he had received his invitation. Hiei had taken to training for the upcoming fights almost immediately, but had given up fairly quickly as well. Simple exercise did nothing, and lone trees were hardly worthy opponents. He needed a sparring partner if he wanted to advance his skill any further, yet he found the idea of being around any of his new "teammates" absolutely repulsive. Even the thought of seeing Kurama made his skin crawl.

It wasn't as if he particularly enjoyed their presence before but especially now their company served as an unwelcome reminder of his current situation- a situation he absolutely abhorred. He did not like being told what to do, and he liked being threatened into compliance even less.

When they had all gathered to speak of the tournament, Kurama had mentioned that their attendance would be enforced by something _else_, rather than by Toguro or any other sort of demon. Though he had been vague, Hiei guessed what he was hinting at. Though he may not be as knowledgeable as Kurama was regarding certain topics, he wasn't stupid.

Kurama had been suspecting that, rather than a human or demon adversary, it would be a _god_ they would face, should they chose to refuse. It certainly made sense—only a god would be capable of granting wishes beyond monetary value. Gods possessed powers that mortal beings like them did not, and as such were the only beings capable of granting such a prize, as well as the only beings capable of enforcing such a punishment. It was impossible to kill a god. It was hardly even possible to _hurt_ one. Yet they were fully capable of destroying mortal life, and furthermore capable of doing so without the need of traditional methods. God power was not something to be trifled with.

But Hiei wasn't afraid of gods, even if they were impossible to kill. And even after Kurama let his suspicions be known, he was still quite intent on not participating. He wasn't some animal to perform for the amusement of others and would rather die, no matter by who's hand, than become a clown.

He could escape. He could run back to the Makai and become an enemy of Reikai, as well as fight or flee from whatever god came chasing after him. He could even stand by and be killed. That was all his business and no one could tell him otherwise. But the repercussions of his choice were what mattered, and it was the fear of those repercussions that forced him to remain within his parole bounds.

Yukina would be coming back.

And even though he was sure they would form no relationship—even though he was sure he didn't even _want_ a relationship—he knew that was not something he could turn away from. If he died then so be it—everyone died eventually. He held no misconceptions about that fact. But turning away from the chance to be nearer to her, even if at a safe, anonymous distance, was something that he couldn't bring himself to do. He would not willingly walk away from that chance.

So he stayed, trapped within the limits of the few human cities he was allowed to wander between. The territory was too small for his liking, and far too close to the places where humans congregated—even deep in the woods their stench was palpable. But even so, he remained, alone, awaiting the god forsaken tournament in silence.

Occasionally he did attempt to seek out the others—he had spied on them briefly, from the safety of the shadow of the wood. Yusuke was busy training with the old woman—or so it seemed. He was unable to get very close due to the strong barriers surrounding her compound, but his Jagan had served him well enough to determine what exactly was going on within its confines.

Kurama and Kuwabara, however, had left their training grounds relatively unguarded. He had been able to approach quite close, and could have stayed unhindered if he wished, but found it far too aggravating to stay for long. He didn't care for Kuwabara—that idealistic human boy—the very picture of human naiveté. It was often said within Makai that the humans had been spoiled like children. The presence and protection of Reikai had made them grow weak and compliant—few, if any, had any real idea of what nasty turns life could take. Kuwabara was the embodiment of this warped perspective, and even his presence drove Hiei crazy.

He also found the presence of Hotaru quite irritating. He always had, but after the most recent revelations he found her even harder to cope with. It wasn't that he found her to be a 'bad person', or morally reprehensible in any way, but rather that he found her to be a perpetual thorn in his side. She had no qualms with using others to her advantage—a sentiment which he shared—but the fact that he was counted amongst those she would gladly use was insulting. Furthermore, the fact that she had fought to keep Yukina imprisoned, for whatever reasons she may have had, marked her as a clear enemy.

It wasn't that he had expected her to show sympathy for the girl—sympathy for others, for no other reason than simple kindness, was yet another naïve human ideal he hated greatly. However, the fact remained that Yukina was one of his own, and by the laws of nature he was required to fight for her—which, in turn, meant Hotaru was the one to fight against.

More so than either of those two, however, it was Kurama's presence that drove him away. More than ever he found the fox unbearable. Though they had held a begrudging alliance for the past few years, an alliance he still had no intention of breaking, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming hatred for him.

This was his fault, and Hiei wasn't about to forgive him for his stupidity.

The fox had a bad habit of trying to work within the lines—to weave his way between them in an effort to get what he wanted while avoiding retaliation. It was a sneaky, cunning type of tactic—one that seemed to be common amongst foxes, the lowly creatures that they were—and one that had, unsurprisingly, backfired in the worst possible of ways. Though the fox had quickly won back the sympathies of the two human boys with his manufactured regret, Hiei wasn't going to be so quick to forgive. He had told him that negotiating with Hotaru was foolish, yet the fox had clearly disregarded his warning and forged ahead.

The fact that he made it out like this was all for Yukina's benefit only made him angrier still. The fox held no loyalties to his sister—to assume he did would be a folly. He had no reason to and even with his softening, caused by numerous years of living in this overly sweet world, the fox was not one to care for those outside of his direct social circle. He had made that clear numerous times. Perhaps he had attempted to save Yukina because he wanted to prove to himself that he was somehow 'above' his inherent nature. Perhaps it was because he was still trying to win back Hiei's favor. Or, perhaps it had just been some sort of power play—an attempt to discredit Hotaru in order to win himself further approval from the gods that ran Reikai.

Whatever it was didn't matter—any conceivable possibility only led to one conclusion: the fox was abhorrently petty.

So, unable to stand his companions, Hiei had sought some peace within the woods. It wasn't much—there was still the stench, and from this distance he could hear sounds of traffic. Even the monotonous drone that was perpetual human chattering was easy for his heightened senses to pick up. But at least he was alone—just that was enough.

At the present moment, he resided within a tree—seated upon one of its branches and leaning against its trunk. He was tired—not from training, but rather from an overwhelming boredom that seemed to mercilessly bend him to its will. He didn't know what to do with himself.

One month until the tournament. One month until he faced that fucking audience—the pulsating swarm of lower beings that congregated for no other purpose than to drool over the sight of blood. And it would be him—his blood—that they would be drooling over.

_I won't let them enjoy it,_ he thought spitefully, gripping his sword hilt as if that would help calm him at all. _I will win. Even if the rest of them die in the process—I will win. _

**Chuu**

"Here you are, master. Nyaa!"

Chuu peered down at the omelet the girl had placed in front of him. It was cooked perfectly and smelled great—but the part he loved most was the inscription—"Good Luck!" written in ketchup, decorated with little hearts all around it. He looked back at the girl, a wide grin on his face.

"Do you like it, nyaa?" she asked, cocking her head to one side and giggling softly. She was dressed in a sexy maid's outfit, with long, curled brown hair out from which poked two black cat's ears. Even though he knew they weren't real, he couldn't help but feel elated at their presence—Chuu really had a think for cat girls.

"It's perfect!" he exclaimed, drawing another smile from the girl.

She then turned to his companion, positioning her bottle of ketchup over his plate. "And what message would you like?"

"Plain."

"… Are you sure, nyaa?"

"Yes. Plain."

"No problem," the girl replied, taking the rude tone in stride effortlessly. She bowed deeply, and Chuu leaned slightly to try to catch a glimpse up her skirt. "Please enjoy your meal, Masters. Nyaa!"

Once she had left, Chuu's smile instantly faded and he turned across the table with a scowl. "Don't be a brat."

Rinku hardly looked up from his handheld game. "What? I don't like ketchup."

"So!?" Chuu whispered harshly. "If a cute girl offers you something, you take it!"

"She's only doing what you paid her to."

"No, she's doing it because she wants to," he insisted.

Rinku scoffed. "Yea, right. Maid café's only exist to scam stupid people like you."

"You're way too jaded for a kid, you know that?"

"Whatever."

Chuu dropped the issue, instead focusing on his beer and beginning on his omelet. In the silence he became painfully aware of the pop music playing in the background—some cutesy song about friendship or something—and eventually engaged Rinku once again to drown it out.

"So what's he like?"

"Hm?" Rinku still didn't look up, his thumbs moving at the speed of sound across the handheld's controls. "Oh, you mean Zeru?"

Chuu flinched at the name. "Yea, him."

"He's alright, I guess."

Chuu waited for more, but the kid never elaborated. "… _And_?!"

"'And' what?" Rinku repeated. "Like I said, he's alright."

Chuu scoffed, taking half the omelet in one bite just to keep himself from ranting.

Finally, Rinku looked up at him and Chuu couldn't help but wish he hadn't—the kid had a grin so wide he was surprised it fit on his face. "You're so jealous it hurts."

"I'm not jealous!" Chuu retorted, bits of food flying from his mouth.

"You're definitely jealous."

"Don't be stupid!"

Rinku laughed, shaking his head and returning his attention to his game.

Chuu fidgeted, taking the other half of the omelet up in his fork and eating it just as quickly as the first, once again in an attempt to quiet himself. It didn't help, though, and he just ended up ranting with his cheeks filled with egg. "Jan-ken-pon is a stupid way to pick a team captain! He's totally unqualified, that guy. I'm way stronger than he is and I have a lot more experience to offer!"

"Heh, yea… experience at losing."

"Shut up," he snapped back.

It was true though—Chuu had entered the tournament several times in the past, all in the hopes of testing his strength against that big guy from the Toguro Team, but had yet to make it past the second round. He had always performed well enough, but each year his teammates proved to be a disappointment. This year, being stuck as an alternate, it looked like history was bound to repeat itself.

"This guy's just going to hold us back," Chuu continued, his mouth still mostly full. "You made a real shit choice there, kid."

"Me?" Rinku asked incredulously. "Zeru's _way_ better than those two guys _you_ picked up."

"Hey, they seem strong enough!"

"Not even close."

Chuu went silent, scowling at the kid across from him. Despite what he may have said, the kid did have a point. About six months back the two of them had met up, planning to enter together. They then set out on their own to find two fighters each, and planned to reconvene two months before the tournament to sneak back into Ningenkai. Rinku had shown up with Zeru, a fire wielder hailing from the volcanic peaks of Akogi Island, and Roto, a somewhat sadistic information broker from Gandara's capital.

Chuu, on the other hand, had forgotten to find anyone at all. In a desperate attempt to seem prepared he had excused himself to the restroom and recruited the two men who just so happened to stand next to him at the urinal. He hadn't even bothered to learn their names at the time and even now he found it difficult to remember what they even looked like.

He swallowed the rest of his food and went back for another bite, only to find his plate empty. He needed something to help him calm down though, so he reached across the table for Rinku's plate only to be swatted away.

_Why the hell do I hang out with this kid? _He thought angrily, going back to his beer and finishing that just as quickly.

Truthfully, it was probably pretty weird—especially here in the human world where man-boy friendships were often regarded as something perverse. Chuu cringed at the idea—he hardly even liked talking with the kid, much less doing something like _that_. Back in the Makai it wasn't a big deal—one could hardly determine the actual age of a demon just by appearance, so no one paid it much mind. But here in Ningenkai the stark difference in their apparent ages had become painfully obvious and Chuu was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious about the whole thing.

The waitress from before approached again, smiling and striking a cute pose. "Would Master like another beer, nyaa?"

"Of course—"

"—No." Chuu shot Rinku another angry glance and the kid merely shrugged. "Don't complain to me about it. We're on a budget."

"Don't tell me how to spend my money," Chuu protested. "You're not the wife in this relationship!" He suddenly went wide eyed, turning to the cute waitress and waving his hands around frantically, painfully aware once again of how he must sound to a human audience. "Not like that! We're not in a relationship!"

Even she, a true pro at dealing with awkward situations, seemed uncomfortable, and shrank back. Things were taking a sour turn.

"It's not like I'm sleeping with him!"

"What the heck are you talking about?!" Rinku demanded.

"He's a friend! I like women!" Chuu shouted, drawing even more attention. The waitress began to back away slowly and he stood, reaching out to her in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "It's really not like that!"

She fell backwards and screamed, but Chuu moved towards her still, knocking his chair back and causing it to push against the table behind them, which in turn caused a cascade of drinks to fall to the floor and smash to pieces.

"I _really _like women! I—"

He felt a tug on his shirt and was suddenly pulled away by Rinku. "Could you be any more embarrassing right now?!"

"I'm just trying to—"

"—Lets _go," _the kid insisted, looking absolutely mortified.

"But—but she'll think—"

"_Now!_"

As he was quickly pulled from the maid café, he looked back with a pained expression. The waitress was curled up in the arms of a coworker, shaking and crying in fear, and didn't even notice when he waved goodbye. The other patrons looked equally distraught, and the area around their table was now a mess of broken glass, spilled beer, and crushed omelets.

Rinku continued to pull him out of the café, down the stairs, and out onto the street. Once they had emerged, the kid turned to him, looking both embarrassed and enraged all at once. Chuu, however, was too distraught—he slumped his shoulders and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Damn."

"What the heck was that!?"

He sighed again. "I really thought I had a chance with her. What a waste…"

"Are you really that stupid?"

"Oh! I know! I'll bring her flowers!"

"… You can't be serious."

"Of course I am! Women love flowers!"

"I don't think—"

"—Ah, don't worry about me, kid!" He remarked, rustling Rinku's hair only to be swatted away moments later. He returned his hands to his pockets and looked back up at the window of the café, a confident smile on his face and a fresh look of determination in his eyes. "Women really love flowers."

"…. Unbelievable."

**Keiko**

"Eat up!"

Keiko stared down at the steaming bowl of ramen hopelessly. Whenever she got depressed, her parent's solution was always just to feed her. Perhaps that's just the way it goes when your parents own a ramen shop.

She took a large slurp of noodles to placate them before once again resting her head in her hand and sighing heavily. Her mother frowned in a concerned sort of way, moving out from behind the counter and sitting next to her.

"I'm sure Yusuke's fine, sweetheart," she said in a soft voice, placing a hand sweetly on Keiko's shoulder.

Keiko couldn't help but scrunch up her face angrily. "I know he's fine. That's the problem."

"What do you mean?" her father asked, approaching her as well and leaning in closely.

Most kids may have been annoyed by this sort of doting, but Keiko actually found it quite comforting. She was very close with her parents—she told them everything. They were her greatest support system. It was because of this that she felt no hesitation in telling them exactly what she was thinking.

"He always does things like this," she groaned. "He _likes_ doing things like this."

"You mean he likes disappearing? That seems a little mean…" her mother said softly.

"No, not like that," she explained. "But whatever he's doing, I know it's not what he _should _be doing. But it's like he lives just to break the rules."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" her father asked rhetorically, scratching the back of his head with his stirring spoon. That was definitely against health code. "Even when you two were kids he was always a bit of a trouble maker."

Keiko hung her head. "I just don't get it. He's not a bad person—not like those other street kids. Why does he keep getting involved in these sorts of things?"

"Well do you know what he's involved in?" her mother asked with a smile. "Maybe it's something that's good for him!"

She couldn't help but scoff. "I know him well enough to that's not possible. He never does what's good for him."

"Well, some things are good for some people, while some are good for others," her father replied with a shrug and a crooked smile.

"Even so, the boy still needs to graduate junior high. Everybody should do at least that much," stated her mother firmly.

He thought for a minute before scratching his head with the spoon again. "Yea, I suppose you're right about that."

"Anyway, Keiko, try not to dwell on it too much. I'm sure everything will work out in the end. He's a nice boy, after all. He'll figure it out eventually."

She plastered a smile on her face, for her mom's sake, and rose from the bar stool. "Yea, you're probably right. Dad, do you mind if I take this up to my room? I have some homework to do."

Her father smiled back at her, but it was fairly obvious he didn't believe she was really over it. "No problem, sweetie."

"Try to cheer up, okay?" her mother said, hugging her lightly.

"I'll be fine," Keiko replied with another fake smile. Her father placed the ramen bowl on a tray which she carried up the stairs and into her bedroom.

She placed the ramen on her desk, on which lay her textbooks and notecards. She took one look at them before sighing yet again and instead retiring to her bed. She flopped down on her back, rubbing her temples and trying, as her parents had said, to forget about Yusuke.

She wasn't having much luck, however.

_Just what is he thinking? _She thought, her face scrunching up back into a scowl. _He's so stupid sometimes… _

She thought back on the past semester—his attendance had been subpar, as usual, and when he was at school he seemed increasingly distracted, but just up and leaving for a month was just too much. Of course, it was starting to seem more and more commonplace.

_Maybe I should just give up on him? _Her scowl fell into a frown, though she hardly realized it. Yusuke had never really fit in with the other kids at school, and though Keiko often thought that was his own fault she couldn't help but admit it must be a bit hard. He was always fighting back against everything around him. It only made sense that he would want to run away from it. Yet at the same time, there were some things in life that people just had to do. _If he doesn't graduate from middle school he'll just be some street kid forever, but maybe it's not my problem… If he's really doing an internship at some detective agency then maybe they'd hire him? _

When he had first told her that she had found it a bit hard to believe. What sort of detective agency takes on 14 year old street thugs? Beyond that, did 'detective agencies' even exist anymore? That was something out of movies. She had figured he was lying, but he had that girl—Botan—to back up his story. Kuwabara had backed it up as well when she questioned him, and he was a fairly trustworthy guy. Maybe he was telling the truth?

She sat up and sighed again. _Well whatever he's doing it's none of my business. _She moved to her desk, opened her textbook, and got to work. _He'd probably prefer it if I didn't get involved anyway… _

She began reading her chemistry book. However, despite her desire to move on she found her vision fading in and out of focus and was constantly pulled back into her worrisome thought process. Yusuke had always been trouble. Always. But he had always managed to bounce back, or, at the very least, managed to barely fulfill whatever was required of him. But this time it didn't seem like he was going to—their school life was only getting more intense, and he was only getting more rebellious. This wasn't going to end well—she could tell. And there was nothing she could do about it.

"Idiot," she mumbled quietly, hanging her head in her hands once more.

And at that moment, even she couldn't tell which one of them she meant.

**Yusuke**

"Hah, pathetic."

"Shut… up…"

"You should be able to handle ten times more weight than this."

"Bring it… on then…"

"With the state you're in? You'd be crushed."

Yusuke stood on an empty plot of land within Genkai's compound. His knees were bent, his legs were burning from the strain, beads of sweat dripped freely down his exposed skin, and his arms were shaking from the tension—above his head he held a bolder nearly seven times his size. And he had been standing in this position for the better part of the past half hour.

"Well…" he began through heavy breaths, "I'm already being crushed so why not go all out?"

He saw Genkai's upper lip twitch—a sign he had become quite familiar with. She wasn't happy. Of course, he didn't need the twitch to tell him that. As long as he had stood with the boulder precariously lifted above his head, she had stood in front of him—angry and unrelentingly pessimistic about his progress. She refused to tell him when he was allowed to stop, refused to tell him how to better maintain his position—basically she refused to help at all. She just stood there, scowling and harping at him just like Takenaka and the other's used to (and probably still would if given the chance).

"So?" he asked with strained smile. "Are we gonna kick this up a notch or what?"

"You think you can handle it?"

"Heh, no way I can. But why not?"

Her lip twitched again. Then, she closed her eyes, granting at Yusuke at least a few moments of peace before she sighed heavily and raised her right hand. Before he even knew what she was doing, a bright blast of blue light shot outwards and suddenly the weight was gone—replaced by a heavy rainfall of dust and small pebbles.

He felt relieved and dropped his deadened arms to his side, but his relief quickly vanished when Genkai spoke again. "This is hopeless."

"Don't say that," he snapped. Things were hard enough as it was—he had already been training for a month and still didn't feel like he had really gotten anywhere. It felt more like he was being punished than being trained, and every little quip or insult that the old lady threw at him just reminded him of the situation he was in and the opponent he was soon to face. He knew he didn't have a chance against Toguro, but he needed someone, _anyone_ to say that he did.

And if his own teacher didn't believe in him, then who would?

"Just give me a bit of time to practice," he conceded, looking away to avoid her judgmental gaze.

"You don't have more time."

"Okay then let's do something else."

"Idiot." He bristled at that, as he did at most of her words, but it was what she said afterwards that really threw him into a rage. "Why should I bother to train you if you aren't even going to try?"

"I _am _trying!" he shouted back. "Are your eyes going bad or are you just stupid?! I've been trying this whole time!"

"Like hell you are," she replied in an equally confrontational tone. "You're giving up and slacking off just like you always do."

"Shut up, I'm _not_!" If she wasn't his last resort, and if he didn't know how easily he'd lose, he would have fought her then and there. "I know I need to train more in order to beat Toguro, and I know that if I _don't_ then he's going to finish me off, so why the hell would I slack off at this!?"

"Because you're stupid," she spat back. "You're childish and you think you're invincible."

"I obviously _don't_ think that! If I did, why the hell would I be here?!"

"Just because you had the motivation to come to me doesn't mean you have the motivation to actually complete your training."

"I do!"

"Then start trying."

"_I am_," he yelled, almost pleading with her. "God damn it, why does everyone always assume I'm just not trying? Maybe I _am_ trying! Maybe _this_ is the best I can fucking do!"

"Don't give me that," she snapped. "You may have won my tournament out of dumb luck, but you still have some strength. And you could get stronger if you gave a crap."

"You're just like the rest of them," he replied scornfully, turning away and placing his hands in his pockets. "No one thinks I'm worth a god damn thing and they all think it's my fucking fault."

"Spare me your little pity party."

"Fuck you." He flipped her off and began to walk towards the woods—maybe he would leave, maybe he'd just sit out there till he cooled down. Either way, he needed some distance from this nagging old hag.

"You think because you came back once you can do it again."

He knew he shouldn't have, but still—he turned back and marched straight up to her. Even with their height discrepancy being wildly in his favor, somehow it still felt as if she were looking down on him. "So you think I'm just okay with the idea of Toguro smashing me into the pavement?"

"You're acting like you are."

"_How!?"_ he finally screamed. "What am I doing to make you think I don't give a shit?! I've been out here busting my ass since day one and all I get is you fucking nagging me!"

She grinned up at him—a hateful sort of look. "So a few insults and suddenly it's not worth it anymore?"

"That's not what I meant!" He felt like he was about to tear his own hair out—this conversation was going nowhere and the old lady just wouldn't drop it. He took a deep breath, and tried once more to explain himself. "I know I don't stand a chance against him. I know that unless I get stronger I can't beat him and I just sort of…" he trailed off, a bit embarrassed, but quickly decided to just lay everything out on the table. "I just need someone to believe in me, I guess."

After a few moments, he finally mustered the courage to look back at Genkai, who was looking up at him with a mixed expression—she seemed sad, but Yusuke doubted if he was reading her right. The old woman wasn't one for such sorts of softness. "It's like I said…" Genkai sighed again, dropping her gaze before looking back at him with the same angry glare as before. "Pathetic."

"Fuck this."

He stormed off then, angrier than he had been in a long time. The old lady was right—it really was hopeless. She wasn't going to help him and she was the only one that could, so that meant he was on his own. He'd have to face Toguro alone and unprepared—but that was just the way of it, he supposed.

He had finally reached the tree line again when the old lady spoke. This time he didn't turn to meet her, but he did find himself stopping at her call.

"Yusuke," she said simply, in a far softer tone than before.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming at her, and even with the most self-control he could muster, the most polite response he could come up with was a simple, angry: "What is it?"

"You've really been giving it your all?"

Now he did turn, trying to keep himself from looking too optimistic, but fairly certain he was failing at that. Maybe she actually _did_ believe him. Maybe he was right to come to her. Maybe it wasn't hopeless yet. "I really have," he said with a sad smile.

"And still this is the best you can do?"

He cringed and looked away, "It seems like it."

When he met her eyes again, he was certain of it—she really _was_ sad. He felt a pang in his chest but kept his gaze fixated, and after a few moments of pause Genkai began to approach him. "Maybe you're right."

He suddenly felt his muscles tighten and his eyes go wide. She continued to approach at a slow pace.

"Maybe I've been too hard on you," she admitted quietly.

He stared on, transfixed and confused. "What is this…" he mumbled, unsure of how to even vocalize the strange sensation he was getting from his master. His hands clenched into fists so tight he felt his nails digging into his skin, and his pulse quickened.

She grew closer. "I've pushed you too far and haven't give you the credit you deserve."

He took a single step away, but she was already on him—standing only a few feet away. She looked at him intently with those sad eyes and, though he wasn't sure why, he began to shake. Then, it happened.

She raised her right hand, her palm facing out towards him.

"Ýou've done well, Yusuke."

"What are you…" he mumbled, his heart beating out of his chest. Finding his voice, he shouted, "What the hell is this!?"

"You really have been trying, haven't you?"

"I…"

"I'm sorry."

"Are you… are you really…" he didn't move or even blink. He just stared at her, and her open, threatening right hand pointed in his direction.

She smiled at him. "I'm going to kill you."

"… What?" he whispered breathlessly.

"I'm going to kill you," she repeated in the same sad, pitiful tone. "You're right. You can't win against Toguro. So, as my final duty as your master, I'm going to save you the pain."

"You can't be serious…"

"It won't hurt much."

"Genkai—"

It was too late, however. As he said the words, a bright blue light grew from her palm and shot out straight at him. He watched it form, growing and pulsating into a static sphere of fluorescent energy, and then watched it charge through the space between them. The moment seemed to last forever, but despite the slowness he was unable to react. He just stood there, frozen and in disbelief, with his gaze transfixed—not upon the ball of light, but rather upon its caster. The old lady—_Genkai_ – seemed so forlorn he almost felt as though she were about to reverse it—like she were about to take it back and save him. But she didn't take it back, and she didn't save him, and only moments later he felt it collide.

And then he didn't see anything at all.

* * *

Akogi Island – 阿漕島— "Greed Island"—an island located in the southern region of Mukuro's territory. Highly populated with active volcanos and known for its particularly spicy seafood dishes. Pretty much unimportant. A fun homage to Togashi's other masterpiece (to which I am thoroughly addicted). Expect more of this cause, quite frankly, HunterxHunter's the shit.


	6. Chapter 6: A Needle in Silk Floss

**A/N:** Double whammy tonight! Two chapters for the price of one!

I know I should probably just wait so I can make updates more regular, but I just can't help it. I've been moving to slow, even for my tastes and I want to fix that. :3

* * *

**Kurama**

_16 Years Ago_

Everything was black—yet he felt aware, or at least somewhat. Aware of the darkness in which he lay. His head was aching.

He soon was alerted to a sound—it was near. It was next to him. It was difficult to place the sound—to determine what it was—but slowly it grew in volume and he realized it was the sound of crying. Panicked, scared sobbing, growing ever louder and louder.

"I trusted you…" came the cry, ringing and echoing through the black space. A female voice—one he recognized, albeit vaguely. "I should have known… what you were…"

He tried to place the face, to remember who this voice belonged to, but all he managed was a vague shape and a blur of white.

"I trusted you…" it said again, echoing and causing the pain in his head to spike.

"I trusted you…" The pounding became more intense. With each drum, he felt a flash of recognition.

"I trusted you…" Golden eyes.

"I should have know…" White hair.

"What you were…" Soft hands and slender fingers.

The beats of pain were rapid and overwhelming- they were becoming unbearable. He tried to shout, to silence the voice, but all he heard was the same thing over and over.

"I trusted you… I should have known… what you were…"

_Stop._

"I trusted you… I should have known… what you were…"

_Stop. _

"I trusted you… I should have known… what you were…"

_Leave me alone._

"Ah, I'm sorry!"

The shrill cry caused his eyes to finally open—the pounding had ceased and he found himself staring up at old wood and peeling paint.

"I… I didn't mean to…"

To his right was the child—the same boy from before—his eyes wide in terror. In his small, shaking hand he held a wet towel, and next to the bed Kurama spied a small bowl of tepid water. When he looked back at the boy, he noticed that tears were streaming down his fat cheeks and his eyes were red and irritated.

_It was him that I heard. It wasn't her… she's dead, after all. _

"What were you doing?" Kurama asked, his voice low and his eyes narrowed.

"I… um…" The boy's grip on the towel was tight, and small drops fell into a growing puddle on the floor. "You passed out, so… um… I thought maybe you had a fever…"

_This isn't some flu,_ Kurama thought scornfully. _This is the curse of a god. Towels won't help. _

He felt himself growing angry. This boy, this little, stupid child, was irritating and for a moment Kurama meant to kill him. However, it only took a moment to remember what had happened the last time—the pain that he had felt.

He knew he should fight through it—pain is nothing to be feared, and it would be worth it to be rid of this patronizing little rat. Yet try as he might he couldn't bring himself to summon his power. No matter what he told himself, he didn't want to feel that pain again if he could help it. Or perhaps he just didn't want to hear that voice again.

He sat up—slowly, and with great difficulty. The boy moved forward quickly in a panic, appearing worried, but stopped and stumbled when Kurama shot him yet another angry glare. After much struggle, and a significant amount of pain, he finally was upright, and began to shake the stiffness from his limbs. It was a feeling he had never felt before—like his muscles had contracted and turned to stone. Even sitting was difficult and he found it hard to maintain an upright position.

The kid was still on the ground, looking up at him with an odd mix of wonder and terror.

"Are you… okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't hurt?"

"No."

"Do you need some water? Maybe you should lay down—"

"Shut up." He spoke the words slowly—or rather hissed them—and thankfully the boy fell quiet once again.

He tried to move his legs, so as to stand and leave this infuriating boy behind him, but when they moved it caused a spike of pain and he stopped immediately. _Is this what I've been reduced to? An old man, confined to his bed?_

Finally, in his upright position, he was able to take a look at himself. His arms were covered in bruises—more black flesh than white—and the bruises seemed to expand and contract before his eyes. He moved his fingers—even this caused him pain—and when he tried to make a fist he could only manage a weak one. _Is this what you meant to do to me, Inari? _

He regarded the boy once again, his anger apparent in his expression. The boy shied away, and Kurama took some solace in that. At the very least he could scare this child if he wished to, even if it was all just an empty threat.

_I need him._ The thought came suddenly and was entirely unwelcome. He didn't _need_ anyone. He had never needed anyone. And now, even in his moment of greatest weakness, accepting the help of some pathetic child was undoubtedly beneath him. _I need help._

He flinched at the realization and chose to ignore it. This child was a nuisance, not a blessing, and should be treated as such. Even if he couldn't kill him, he had other methods of ridding himself of this newest annoyance.

"Where is this place?" was all he asked, averting his eyes from the problem child and instead staring at the wall.

"It's not far from the city…"

"What city?"

"Ah… Kyoto, of course."

"Kyoto?" It took him a minute to recall the name—though he was alert, memories seemed to come slowly. _That's right, Kyoto… the human city... the one that contains Fushimi Inari Taisha..._

"How long have I been here?"

"Um… about…" the boy had to count on his fingers, and even then counted slowly. "About four days, I think."

_Four days? And yet I've been awake for ten minutes of those at the most… _

"Is this where you live?"

"It is now, I guess..."

"And you brought me here to help me, correct?"

"Um… yea…"

Finally, Kurama looked back at the boy, and spoke in a soft, yet threatening tone. "Did you really think it wise to help someone like me?"

The boy's eyes went wide and he shied even further away. "I… um…"

"Do you know what I am, boy?"

"You're…" He swallowed hard and began to sweat. "You're a demon, aren't you?"

"I'm not just any demon…"

"Are… are you a king?"

"You know of the three kings?"

"Um… I…"

_Obviously not. _Kurama sighed and softened his gaze. "I could kill you if I wanted to," he lied.

The boy froze. "Um… um… I… um…"

"Do you have a death wish, boy?"

"Um…"

"Because I would be happy to grant that for you."

"But… but… I…" The boy began to cry—tears running freely and snot dangling from his nose. "But I helped you…"

"I don't need your help." _Yes, I do. _Kurama flinched again, almost hitting himself. "If you don't want to die, then leave this place."

"I… but…" The boy looked around frantically before dropping his gaze. "I don't have anywhere… I don't…"

"Oh, so you do wish to die, then?"

"No, but I… I…" The boy could barely choke out words between his frantic sobbing. "I can't go anywhere… I don't have anywhere…" He curled his knees to his chest, crying and sniffling hopelessly.

Kurama laughed—and felt sharp pains in his chest as he did so. "You're a runaway, then?"

The boy nodded weakly.

"Good," Kurama whispered with a smile. "Then there will be no one to interrupt as I cut you open."

He had hoped that would be enough to send the boy fleeing in terror, but instead he merely collapsed, forming a tight ball on the floor and sobbing wildly. Kurama waited for it to pass, but instead it just got louder, and soon the boy began to choke out unintelligible sentences between sobs. He then started to heave, as if he were about to vomit from the intensity of his cries, and Kurama grew impatient.

"Just leave, would you?" he growled.

"I can't!" the boy wailed.

"If you don't, I won't hesitate to kill you."

"I can't!"

"Do not take my threats lightly, boy."

"Then just kill me!" the boy screamed. After he had, the sobbing subsided, and in a weak whisper he mumbled, "No one would care anyway. Just kill me if you want to."

Kurama stared at the boy—small, frail, covered in sweat and tears and dirt. Hopeless, harmless, and pathetic—agreeing to die because he was simply too lonely and too desperate to go anywhere else. Ignorant and foolish enough to give up his young life before he even knew what it meant.

_How troublesome… _

Truly, if the boy was willing to face his death, for whatever reason, then Kurama was at a loss. He couldn't kill him—he lacked the power and, unfortunately, the courage. And with his body in shambles he couldn't exactly go anywhere himself. At least not yet.

_It's only temporary… A temporary rest to gain back my strength. I can put this annoying little boy to use, shameful as it may be. I don't _need_ him, but I can _use_ him. _

It was suitable compromise, and certainly a much better alternative than admitting he was at a loss. Besides, it was really his only option. As repulsive as it may have been, finally Kurama dropped his menacing act, and allowed himself to fall onto his back into the comfort of the futon.

"What's your name, boy?"

Slowly, the boy uncurled himself, and though his hands were still shaking he spoke. "Shouta."

"And you live here? In this place?"

"Um… yea…" he began. "I… ran away."

"Why?"

"It wasn't my fault!" The boy shouted suddenly, before recoiling again and returning his voice to a whisper. "I didn't know it would end up so bad but I went and I… Oh well, it doesn't matter now… Everyone hates me, anyway."

The boy looked like he was about to cry again, so Kurama pushed the conversation on in a quick attempt to save his ears from another dose of high-pitched wailing. "How did you know I was a demon?"

"Well, you… you have ears and…"

_Ah yes, that would do it. _

"I met someone like you before," the boy said softly.

"Oh? You've met a fox before?"

"Well, um, not exactly…" He was calming down, for which Kurama was grateful. A patronizing, idiotic child was one thing—but a shaking, crying child was a whole other level of irritating. "I met a demon, like you, once."

Kurama laughed again, and, as before, pain stabbed through his chest. "You've met a demon before, and yet you chose to help one?"

"This one was really nice!" The boy began with a wide smile. "He had ears and a tail like you and had this funny hat and—"

"—A tanuki?" Kurama scoffed. "You could hardly call a tanuki a demon."

"But that's what they said…"

"Tanuki are fools and anyone who believes what they say are even worse."

"I guess so…"

"You must be disappointed then."

"Huh?"

Kurama finally turned to him, a wicked grin on his face. "You expected me to be some kind sort of demon, didn't you?"

"Uh... well, I…" the boy flushed red, knotting his hands up in his shorts and looking away. "I just thought…"

"You thought what? That you would rescue me and we'd be friends?"

"Kind of… I mean, since I left school, I don't really have any friends anymore, and… I don't know… I guess I just figured that maybe… well…"

_Idiot_. Kurama wanted to laugh again, but he restrained himself as he knew it would hurt. As much as he found the idea of some human-boy/spirit-fox friendship repulsive, he knew he had to keep such thoughts to himself. If the only reason this child was helping him was because he thought he'd make a friend out of it, then Kurama knew he'd have to play the part of a companion. It was insulting, and it was aggravating, but it's not like he hadn't done it before.

Swallowing one's pride and doing what's necessary was just a part of the game.

"You're lucky," Kurama remarked. The boy looked up, seemingly confused, and Kurama took the opportunity to give his best show of a friendly smile. "I'm rather short on friends myself."

Instantly, the boy's face lit up and he approached the futon quickly, clearly having forgotten that Kurama had threatened him extensively only a few moments before.

"So, do you mean…" The boy mumbled hopefully.

"I suppose I do," Kurama replied. "I would be happy to be your friend, Shouta."

**Jin**

_One Month Until the Tournament_

He felt the elevator shaft drop downward and suddenly his head began to pound even worse than before. Jin had never been much for alcohol—the Shinobi rarely allowed its members to become intoxicated and even when it did, Jin, being a captain, and typically refused. But last night he had discovered a new fondness for the stuff. Had he been sober, he no doubt would have thought better of going with some young girls to a club, but he was glad his judgment had been impaired. Though he probably wouldn't be going back there anytime soon, it was certainly an experience to see so many beings crowded into one place—sweaty, drunk, and reckless—dancing and drinking to the loudest music he had ever heard.

When the elevator came to a stop on the bottom floor, his headache subsided somewhat, and he sauntered out of the elevator and down the hall. He then entered a door to the right—leading to the rather expansive gym that Butajiri had reserved just for them. Normally, this space was for hotel guests looking to practice some form of indoor sport but for the past month it had been theirs exclusively.

"Ah, look who decided to join us," Touya laughed. He was already covered in sweat, and was with the other members of the Mashotsukai team. "You got back late."

"It would seem you've grown quite fond of this city," remarked Gama with an equally amicable grin.

Bakuken and Risho, however, did not seem to share the sentiment. Bakuken had his eyes fixed on Jin quite hatefully, while Risho refused to regard him at all.

He sort of understood why they might be mad—this wasn't the first time he had shown up late to practice. In fact, he seemed to show up late more often than he showed up on time, and as Team Captain that left the others in a bit of a predicament. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Risho had quickly picked up the slack and taken on the responsibility of leading their sessions.

"We've been sparing," Risho commented in a professional tone, though Jin would have to be an idiot to not notice the displeasure apparent on his face. "Perhaps if you're well rested enough you could join us."

"Eh, I think I'll pass," Jin replied with a shrug. He moved over to the wall and leaned against it. "I'm just here to watch."

"As expected, I suppose."

"Jin," Touya began with a worried look. "I don't mean to speak out of turn, but—"

"You can speak when you want to, Touya."

The ice master faltered, and looked away. Touya really was so attached to formalities it was almost cute. Finally though, he continued in a low voice. "You really should train with us. If you keep skipping you might fall out of practice."

"He's already fallen out of practice," Bakuken jeered.

Jin paid it no mind, however, and instead slid down to a sitting position. "Don't worry about me now. You guys keep on and I'll join in once my head stops its pounding."

"Hung over?" Risho laughed. "So what you're implying is that you'd rather spend your time running around with humans than win the tournament?"

"That's about it, yea."

Risho snorted and turned his attention to the other members of the group. "Forget about him. Touya and Bakuken, please continue your match."

The two moved back out into the center of the gymnasium and took their positions, launching moments later into a flurry of hand-to-hand combat techniques. Sparing between team members was typically limited to such things—utilizing energy based attacks was a bit too dangerous and uncontrollable, and didn't give each opponent equal opportunity to win. Bakuken's mist was no match for Touya's mastery of ice, as he could merely utilize the water component of the mist and use it to his advantage. Similarly, Gama practicing his technique frequently would lead to significant blood loss, and no one particularly wanted to rail on Risho as he hid behind his rocks.

Jin watched the fight before him intently. Bakuken's secret was power, but he was rather slow and lacked fluidity. It was often said back at the compound that Risho's team, Section 9, was typically afflicted with this problem. They lacked an ability to react to the situation and to change their strategy. It was often said that Bakuken in particular, one of the largest and most muscular individuals within the Shinobi organization, could smash a mountain to pieces but couldn't kill a rabbit to save his life—a stationary opponent was one thing, but something that could react and move was an entirely different story.

And from what Jin could tell, this rumor had proven true. Touya's quick movements were overwhelming the larger man, and though his strikes lacked enough power to bring him down in a timely manner, it was enough for him to keep a relative advantage throughout the fight. Bakuken also seemed rather reluctant to approach Touya defensively, choosing instead to launch offensive attacks that missed their mark more often than not. He had too much pride to admit he was at a disadvantage, though Jin couldn't really fault him for that—excessive pride was the bane of Shinobi fighters, each and every one of them.

As he watched the fight he noticed Risho approach him. He avoided meeting the man's gaze, but as he grew closer Jin realized he had little choice and finally regarded the man. "Section 9 seems to be puttin' up a good fight," he mocked with a simple smile.

Risho sneered in response. "At least we're putting up a fight at all. I can't say much for your team."

"Touya's certainly giving it hell."

"Yes, but a team's worth is 75% it's leader."

"Whoever told you that was lying," Jin laughed. "Though if you believe it, it's no wonder you're so unpleasant."

Risho bristled. "Regardless of whether or not it's true, I fear team Mashotsukai may suffer from your absence."

"Ya miss me?"

"Hardly," the taller man scoffed. "But having a team captain that has little desire to win will undoubtedly be detrimental."

"Oh, I still want to win," Jin replied quite seriously. It was true—he did. More than ever he wanted to win. His past month in this city—living freely, rather than working within it—had shown him just how badly he wanted to win. Should he win this tournament, he would have a way to enter into this world for real—a true member of society. It would take quite a lot to stop him from achieving that goal.

"You may claim that, but your actions and your words seem to have a large discrepancy between them," Risho remarked with a sour look. "If you want to win, you'd work at it."

"I am workin' at it."

"By sitting on your ass all day?"

"A fight is 1% strength, 99% motivation."

"It would appear we've both been lied to."

Jin had to laugh at that—despite his distaste for Risho, the man could be clever if he wanted to. Then he sighed and slumped down. "I just don't see a point in this."

"In training?"

"In training _here_," Jin corrected. "The air is stale."

"Are you upset with what Mr. Butajiri has provided for us?" Risho laughed. "I doubt he would be pleased to hear such things."

"I doubt he'd be pleased to hear anything I had to say," Jin quipped back. "But yea, I guess I'm not too happy with it… It's just not the way I want it to be."

"Oh you poor thing."

Jin laughed again. "Figured you wouldn't understand."

"Despite what you may want, this is what we have," Risho replied with a scowl. "And if you can't bring yourself to work within these conditions, then I have to say you aren't fit to lead us."

"Trying to dethrone me?"

"I'm trying to get you to wake up to the situation," the man snapped. "You can't continue acting like a spoiled child or it will drag the rest of us down."

"If anyone's dragging us down, it's you."

"Me?"

"You don't care," Jin said with a shrug. "Like I said, fights are 99% motivation."

Risho grinned. "Would you like to test that theory?"

"Is that challenge?"

"It's an invitation."

Jin laughed again, lightly at first then he finally doubled over into a fit. Once it had subsided, he rose up from the floor, meeting Risho's gaze directly and matching his wicked grin with one of his own. "Then I accept."

* * *

"You sure you want to do this? All this _stale air_ might hinder you," Risho mocked from across the gym.

Jin laughed in response, placing his hands his pockets and shrugging. "It's not ideal, but I can work with it."

"I'm sure," Risho replied with a grin. He formed a fighting stance, taking in a big breath of air before clenching his muscles and summoning his energy. All rules had been called off for this match—this wouldn't be simple hand-to-hand. They'd be fighting with their full strength or, at least, as much strength as they could muster without tearing the entire hotel to pieces.

A shell of rock began to form around Risho's body, coating his limbs and hardening in an instant. His rock armor was not only a highly efficient defensive maneuver, but also provided a significant amount of offensive capability as well. Being hit with one of those rock encrusted limbs was painful and could be fatal should the victim be caught unaware. Nevertheless, Jin did nothing in response.

Risho sneered at his callousness. "Are you ready?" he asked in a dangerous tone.

"I've _been_ ready," Jin replied. "It's you that's making everyone wait."

The others were pressed against the wall. They looked a bit perturbed by the current situation, particularly Touya who, as always, was addressing the situation with the upmost seriousness. Jin wished he could convince him to just relax, but frankly didn't feel it was really his place anymore to tell him what to do. So he let them continue to fret on the sidelines while Risho formed a threatening stance.

"I won't go easy on you, Jin," he warned.

Jin smiled. "Ah well I'll be going easy on you so I guess that'll make us even."

"Shut up."

With that, Risho charged towards him—slow and headstrong, the perfect representation of Section 9 and their poor reputation. Jin merely stood and waited for him to approach, feeling as if it were taking far too long. Eventually, the man was on him, his eyes wild and his fist raised. He shot out his fist towards Jin, aimed at his stomach, but missed. Within an instant Jin had floated up above him, rising on the wind, as easily as if he were walking up stairs.

Risho had been expecting this, however. "You fool! I know you're little tricks," he cried, bringing up his right leg higher into the air than Jin had expected. Risho had been waiting for him to rise up, and had prepared accordingly. However, it still came slowly and Jin found himself having plenty of time to react. He darted across the gym in midair, avoiding the kick by a wide margin.

Still, though, Risho didn't let up. He launched at him again, this time quicker, spinning and running towards him before jumping to meet Jin's height and punching at him again. Jin caught the fist, allowing himself to be pushed back and following its trajectory before adjusting his handle and using his grip to redirect Risho's force towards the ground. Risho's body was twisted, and as Jin backed away he looked as if he were about to fall flat on his face. However, at the last second he readjusted, landing on his feet and glaring up at the wind master.

Again, he ran towards him. Jin was rather surprised—Risho was showing far more adaptability than Section 9 was known for, but still he felt no real threat from it. Risho feigned right before striking left, and almost caught Jin on the shoulder but missed. Jin had backed away again, up a bit higher into midair.

Risho glared up at him and laughed. "Is this really all you can do? Run?"

"I can do quite a bit more than that," Jin replied back, smiling. "But I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"You're pride will be your undoing," Risho growled, heading towards him again.

"My pride?" Jin repeated, dodging yet another offensive strike. "You think my pride will make me lose?" Risho adjusted to Jin's dodge, jumping up at an unexpected angle and attempting to kick Jin in the back, but Jin danced through the air around this strike as well. "Did you ever think maybe I actually have something to be proud of?"

Risho was breathing heavily by the time he landed, while Jin maintained his relaxed position, floating a few feet above the ground only a bit away. Risho summoned further energy, causing large spikes to grow on top of his already thick armor. It would make them harder to dodge, but would also cause him to slow even further.

"You may think you're a match for me," Risho laughed. "But I'm far stronger than you are. You'll realize this soon enough."

Jin was getting bored.

Risho approached him again, his speed less but his determination far more than before. He swung out his left arm and Jin shot up to avoid it, but was soon met with yet another back-kick, which he had to move right to avoid. This was followed quickly by a right backhand and the spikes of Risho's armor nearly grazed his skin, but still missed altogether.

Jin stayed close, moving between Risho's strikes fluidly and without pause, circling him and avoiding each affront by a narrow margin.

"You can't avoid me forever," Risho called, swinging out his left leg only to fall on his hands, spin 180 degrees and then push upwards, almost meeting Jin's jaw with his left knee. "Stop running!"

And, as an act of courtesy, Jin finally obliged.

He summoned a stirring of wind—it was weak, as the air it was formed from was stale and recycled, but it was far enough. As Risho's right fist approached him the wind shaved away his armor within seconds and a moment later Jin grasped Risho's right hand tightly.

He leaned in with a confident grin. "Like I said, fights are 1% strength…"

Jin twisted his body, summoning a fierce wind around him that picked both of them up from the ground and shot them towards the ceiling. They almost burst through it, but at the last minute Jin redirected his wind towards the ground, sending them both plummeting to the floor.

"And 99% motivation," he finished, twisting his body around Risho's and shaving off what was left of the rock armor with a powerful counter current wind. At the last minute, he propelled them both forward, pushing Risho in front of him so the taller man landed on his chest with Jin perched atop him and pushing his body further into the floor. When he felt the bones in Risho's back approaching a breaking point, he dismounted and allowed the natural force of the floor to handle what was left of Risho's strength.

Surprisingly, the man wasn't knocked unconscious, and rose after a few minutes of lying motionless. As he did, he glared hatefully at Jin, but he looked weak and everyone there knew he had no strength to continue the fight. It had been an easier win than expected.

"So you've got your strength back," Risho remarked in a mocking tone.

Jin grinned back at him. "And it's all thanks to you."

"You're still not fit to be captain."

"Hold your tongue, Risho," Touya shouted from the sidelines. "Jin's proven he's the strongest of us. He deserves to lead."

Jin turned to Touya and gave him a friendly smile, which went returned. However, he soon found himself laughing and shaking his head as the realization dawned on him. Finally, he turned back to Risho, who was attempting to stand and failing miserably.

"You should be captain," he said with a friendly smile. Risho looked a bit stunned, and both Touya and Gamma appeared positively baffled, but Jin continued despite this. "Truth be told, I don't think I'm really cut out to lead anyone."

"Don't say that," Touya protested, wide eyed and quite serious. "You've always been a good leader to Section 6!"

"Eh well, things change I guess," Jin replied with a shrug.

Risho regarded him suspiciously, almost looking as if he meant to fight again. "Are you serious about that?"

"Yea, why not?" Jin laughed. "You and that fella Butajiri seem to have developed quite the friendship anyway. Why should I stand in the middle of it?"

"So you're stepping down?"

Jin wanted to laugh again—the formality Risho was taking was practically absurd. This wasn't the Shinobi, this was just some little tournament. But nevertheless, the played along and bowed deeply in Risho's direction. "I concede my captainship to you."

**Genkai**

It had been almost five days, and yet the boy hadn't woken. Genkai had found him a room in which to rest and had been periodically checking on him, but so far he showed no real signs of improvement. He wasn't dead, though—at least there was that.

Today, however, was different. She entered the room, prepared to find him unconscious and unaware, but instead he was awake. Sitting up, obviously groggy, and looking around the room confused.

She approached the futon and sat down next to it. "So you're up, huh?" she asked with a faint smile.

He seemed disoriented. "Yea, um… what happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"Um, not really… Wait!" His eyes went wide as the memories rushed back, and he soon turned to Genkai nervously. "You tried to kill me."

She stared back at him, offering no response.

He seemed a bit frightened, but after a few moments he began to relax and before long he was doubled over in laughter. "Jesus, you really scared me back there!" he said. He turned back to her with a smile. "How long have I been out?"

"About five days."

"Five days!?" Yusuke repeated incredulously with another laugh. "I don't have time to waste five days just sleeping!"

"I was thinking the same thing," Genkai replied with a grin.

He smiled back at her, "You really are too harsh sometimes, you know that?"

"Yea, maybe I am."

"I mean, I really thought you were going to kill me!" he laughed. "You seemed so serious and everything!"

"I really did."

Finally, he stopped smiling. Turning to her again, his voice low. "Wait… you were serious?"

"I was."

"You were really trying to kill me?"

"Yes."

He paused before launching into an angry rant. "What the hell grandma!? I can't hold some rock above my head, so you decide to just off me like that!?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "That was basically the way of it."

"That's messed up!" he shouted. "You can't do that!"

"I can do what I want."

"But trying to _kill me_!? Isn't that a bit much!?"

"Heh, maybe," she admitted.

Suddenly, Yusuke shied away, leaving the futon and sliding across the tatami floor. "You're not going to do it again, are you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, grinning in sadistic amusement. Yusuke didn't appear to get the joke however, and noticeably began to tense up. After letting him stew in his panic for a few moments, she finally hung her head and smiled. "No, I'm not going to do it again."

Yusuke breathed a sigh of relief, practically collapsing onto the floor. "You really need to work on your people skills, you know."

"It was supposed to be a kindness," Genkai explained. "You convinced me you really were giving your all at your training. If that had been true, then it was obvious that you wouldn't survive this upcoming tournament so I thought I should just put you out of your misery."

"So you were just going to put me down like some old dog!?" Yusuke demanded angrily. "I'm not your fucking pet, Grandma!"

"Relax, would you?" she laughed. "I struck you with just enough energy to kill you. Seeing as how you didn't die, you may actually have some chance at beating Toguro. Apparently I was right—you weren't trying."

Yusuke scowled and looked away. "So this was all just some fucked up lesson, then?"

"No, I honestly just wanted you dead," Genkai replied with a shrug, causing Yusuke to bristle once more. He relaxed, however, when she turned back to him with a smile. "But it seems like you really are immortal, you little shit."

It took him a few minutes, but finally he smiled and shook his head. "You're crazy."

"You're one to talk."

He began stretching out his limbs, quite obviously sore from the long days of bed rest. His joints cracked and popped with each movement. "So, we going back out for some more punishment, or what?"

"It in a little bit," Genkai replied, standing and heading towards the door. "Before that, though, there's someone that wants to speak to you."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

* * *

"Oh hey," Yusuke began with a confused look. "What are you doing here?"

Seated on the floor of the tea room, Hotaru was cross legged and scowling. "That's a nice way to say 'hello'," she scoffed.

Genkai and Yusuke sat across from her, and Genkai took the liberty to explain. "When I told Hotaru about what happened, she said she wanted to ask you a few questions."

"What kind of questions?"

"Just a few about how you're feeling," Hotaru finished, eyeing Yusuke suspiciously. She lifted her left hand, examining a plain leather band wrapped around her wrist. After a few moments of looking frustrated her eyes met with Yusuke's again. "So? You okay?"

"Uh, fine I guess…"

"Feel any different?"

"I'm kind of sore…"

"What about impulses? Strange thoughts?"

"Um, not really…"

"Any new growths?"

"Like tumors?"

"Sure."

"Uh, no."

"Any increase in your energy?"

"No…"

"Any _decrease_?"

"No."

"Any desire to eat human flesh?"

"What? What kind of question is that!?"

Genkai watched as the conversation bounced back and forth between the two of them, Yusuke looking quite understandably confused and Hotaru continuing to scowl. She had told the girl it wouldn't be any use—Yusuke may have survived, and that may have been a testament to his demon heritage, but he hadn't demonstrated any sort of demonic powers. If he had, Genkai would have noticed, and she informed Hotaru of as much. Nevertheless, Hotaru had been reluctant to believe her.

"I think you've gotten your answers," Genkai stated suddenly before more could be said.

"I'm not finished yet," Hotaru replied, but Genkai would hear none of it.

"Obviously he's just fine," she said, "So there's no need for this interrogation."

"Seriously, what are you getting at?" Yusuke asked, taking his own turn to be suspicious.

Hotaru regarded Yusuke with a weak smile. "Just a bit of… uh, information gathering."

"For Koenma?"

"Yep. For Koenma," Hotaru confirmed with a nervous laugh. "He was worried about you."

"Tsk, yea right," Yusuke scoffed, crossing his arms and pouting like a petulant child.

Genkai ignored his childishness, however, and turned to Hotaru. "So, if you've gotten all the information you've come for then we'll be getting back to work."

"Well, wait a minute—"

"He already said he feels fine," Genkai insisted. "And there isn't any reason he shouldn't feel fine, is there?"

"Well… no, I guess…"

"Hey, this is weird," Yusuke protested from the sidelines. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here."

"Maybe he just hasn't noticed anything yet."

"Hey! What did I just say!?"

"He's fine," Genkai said again. "So if you'll excuse us, it's almost noon. We need to get back to work."

Hotaru scowled again, looking between the two of them. Then she sighed before suddenly looking up with a hopeful smile. "Maybe he needs a drink though? Perhaps some tea, or a soda or—"

"No." Apparently the girl was still under the impression that her black market draught would do the trick. It was astonishing how stubbornly stupid she could be. Genkai stood then, turning to Yusuke. "Like I said, you've had enough opportunity to question him. I hope you're satisfied with the answers you got."

"Like hell I am!" Hotaru shouted suddenly. When Yusuke turned to her looking confused, however, she shrank away and spoke again in a soft voice. "I just think he needs a checkup or something…"

"Don't worry about me, Hotaru," Yusuke replied happily. "Genkai's right—I feel fine. Even if she _did_ try to kill me." He then struck a pose, flexing his muscles and grinning like a mad man, "It'll take a lot more than some old lady's reigun to knock me down!"

"Idiot," Genkai sighed.

"Well, hey, I'm right, aren't I?"

"Shut up," she snapped. "Wait outside. I'll be there in a minute."

"But wait a minute!" Hotaru protested. "I already said, I'm not done—"

"_We're_ done," Genkai responded flatly. "I allowed you to ask your questions to make you feel better, but if you aren't satisfied with the answers then there's nothing I can do."

"Yusuke! Tell me about how it felt when you were hit," Hotaru asked, ignoring Genkai completely.

Thankfully, the boy wasn't as stupid as he looked, and shrugged before heading to the door. "Sorry, Hotaru, but she might try to off me again if I don't do what she says."

Hotaru scowled again as Yusuke left the room whistling to himself. Once he was gone, she directed her gaze back at Genkai, twice as angry as before. "What the fuck, Genkai," she demanded.

Genkai merely grinned down at her. "Like I said, it's not my fault if you didn't get the answers you were looking for."

"If you had just given me more time—"

"—In case you forgot, we're a bit short on time." Hotaru frowned up at her and Genkai returned the look with one of her own. They stayed this way for quite a while before Genkai finally relented and softened her look. "It's pointless to worry about this."

"But you agree with me, don't you? I mean… you said it yourself, if he had been human then he wouldn't have survived."

"The boy is surprising, I'll give him that," she admitted. "But even if I do agree with you, that doesn't mean I'm going to let you do whatever you want."

"He needs to awaken if he's going to stand a chance."

"Maybe he doesn't."

"I can't just go off 'maybes', you know."

"Well then tough shit," Genkai snorted back. "You need to learn to stop trying to control everything."

"Why, because it's bad for my mental health?" Hotaru mocked.

"No, because you're terrible at it."

Hotaru's sarcastic sneer was dropped in an instant and she looked away. "I'd be fine if you people would just listen to me."

"Then make yourself someone worth listening to."

Hotaru looked taken aback, but then finally smiled. "You really are a bitch, you know that?"

"I've heard," Genkai replied, returning the smile. She really did like the girl, even if she _was_ always being an annoying little shit. _I guess I have a thing for kids like that. _

"Well, okay, I guess I'll leave this up to you then. For now, at least," Hotaru sighed, standing from the floor and stretching her back. "I should probably get going anyway. I have some shit to do before I meet with the boys later."

"How is that going, by the way?"

"Eh, Kuwabara's pretty cool, actually. Kurama on the other hand…" The girl grimaced and shook her head. "I really wish Koenma had listened to me about him."

"Like I said—"

"—I heard you the first time," Hotaru snapped before she could finish. "Now go train Yusuke. And don't try to kill him anymore."

"I'll try."

"I'm fucking serious."

"I know. I'll try."

"Ugh, I don't know why I bother."

Genkai laughed at that and Hotaru turned to leave. Before she reached the door, however, Genkai spoke up again. "You should pay more attention to them."

"To who?" she looked confused before finally realizing who Genkai was speaking of. "Ugh, you mean Kuwabara and Kurama? Heh, trust me, I'm paying them way more attention than they need."

"You could learn something from them."

"Like how to be a dick to people that don't deserve it?" Hotaru scoffed. "I'll pass. Later."

With that she left and Genkai watched her go. She probably shouldn't have bothered to suggest it—Hotaru never heeded anyone's advice anyway. She doubted that the girl had even understood her meaning. Still though, she hoped she could take it to heart—not just for Hotaru's sake, but for Yusuke's as well.

**Hotaru**

The past few weeks with the boys had been nothing much to speak of, and occurred without incident. Though she had initially been a bit wary to return, after Kurama's threatening demeanor the first day, she summed up the courage to go back and found him playing nice once again. Hotaru was happy about this, as she absolutely _had_ to find Hiei and speak with him, no matter the cost, but she also found it quite disorienting. Since he had pushed himself into her life she found him constantly flipping between murderous rage and polite amicability. It was confusing, and the changes seemed to occur without reason. Fearing he may choose at any time to switch back into murder-mode, she still made a point to avoid him, as difficult as that may have seemed considering they were meeting at the same place daily, but found it unexpectedly easy as the fox seemed to be avoiding her as well. Occasionally Kurama would acknowledge her presence, however even these events were few and far between. He regarded her infrequently, and seemed to speak to her even less.

And, despite his surprising cordiality, or perhaps _because_ of it, she found hanging around them even more boring than hanging around Inari's. The only good thing that came from it was that in her perpetual boredom she managed to make significant progress through the massive rule book.

It was slow reading—it was written with such arbitrary, unnecessarily complex language that she had to read each sentence several times to grasp its meaning. The pages were thin, the margins small, and the text even smaller, and apparently its author had never heard of bullet-points. Everything was written out in paragraph form—fully explained in the dullest language possible. What made the experience worse, however, was that she knew all she suffered now was entirely her fault.

Back when she had entered the tournament, the rules were fairly simple—a mere pamphlet by comparison. In fact, they were _so_ simple that her first order of business had been hiring a team of lawyers to rewrite them. It had been far too expensive a victory, and she relied on it far too much. That tournament alone provided the majority of her income throughout the year and she had no intention of losing ownership to someone else.

And now she was paying for her selfishness. At least the lawyers had done their job right—she needn't worry that their salaries were paid in vain. However, it was also equally vexing that she couldn't even ask them for help.

She was allowed no bias—should any other members of the committee find evidence of one, her seat on the tournament council would be suspended until the following year. If any of them heard she was attempting to disqualify Team Toguro for personal reasons then she—no, _all _of them—would be in quite significant trouble.

So, she slaved away, hating herself for her drastic actions but hating everyone else even more for forcing her to take them. And the days passed slowly. However, some days were more interesting than others—though usually this was not because of anything especially pleasant.

One day in particular, nearly five weeks into the ordeal, she sat in her usual position—leaning up beneath the shadow of the bamboo, the book resting heavily in her lap, with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The two others had taken a short break to allow Kuwabara to rest, and the boy had quickly come to her side to chat.

Kurama, on the other hand, remained quite a distance away, reading a book in silence. Though he didn't look all that hurt, Hotaru was elated at the prospect that he might be. She imagined he was jealous—envious of the fact that his friend preferred her company to his. Of course, this more than likely was just a fantasy, but it was a nice one nonetheless.

"Jeez, you're still reading that thing?" Kuwabara asked breathlessly, plopping down next to her. The ripe smell of sweat he carried with him made her cringe, but the boy didn't seem to notice. "There's no way a book that long could be interesting."

"It has its moments," she replied, closing it and setting it aside. She had avoided telling either of them what she was working on—the fewer who knew, the less likely word was to spread to the other committee members.

"No wonder you're so out of shape if you just sit around reading all day," Kuwabara mocked playfully.

She shrugged it off. "The life of a scholar is one of constant sacrifice." She thought she heard laughter from across the field, but when she looked over Kurama showed no signs of amusement. Still, she doubted she had imagined it.

"Sounds boring," the boy at her side remarked, falling flat on his back and stretching his legs.

"Well… okay, yea, it's totally boring," she finally conceded.

They shared a brief laugh before Hotaru suddenly remembered something and turned to him excitedly. "Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"_It_!"

"I don't… Oh! OH!" He leapt up again as he remembered, suddenly overcome with a similar giddiness. "That was nuts!"

"Who would have thought, right!?" Initially unbeknownst to either of them, they had found they actually had very similar taste in entertainment and had lately made a habit out of rehashing their favorite details of whatever new episodes had premiered the previous night. Hotaru continued on frantically, pleased to finally have a moment to discuss what was, in her opinion, a moment of great television history. "One minute he's a nice guy and then BAM!"

"I know! I know!" Kuwabara took a moment to compose himself before speaking in a low, dramatic tone. "_'I've always loved you… and that's why…_'"

"'_You will die at my hand'!" _They shouted in unison before erupting into another fit.

Kuwabara smiled widely. "I told you it was good!"

"'Good'? It's fucking _fantastic_!" She leaned in close, as if about to tell a terrible secret. "Think he'll beat him?"

"Oh no way, Ryuuga's gonna beat him down _so hard_!"

"Well yea, but Gentou's pretty badass."

"Maybe, but he doesn't stand a chance!" Kuwabara struck a victorious pose. "The hero never loses!"

"_Maybe_, but—" she stopped as her cellphone began to vibrate in her pocket. "Oh shit, sorry—one second."

She walked out into the wood—a bit farther than she probably needed to, but she wanted to make sure she was entirely out of earshot. It wasn't so much Kuwabara she was worried about, but if the fox learned who was calling…

"Hey."

"_Any luck?_" Inari asked in a bored tone. She could hear other people in the background, but didn't bother to ask who they were.

"No, nothing yet," she replied with a sigh. "No one's even said a word about him, though I doubt they'd tell me if they knew anything."

"_Just give up and go home,_" Inari suggested in a rather commanding tone. He had been harping on her for the past month to do just that—claiming that Hiei was never going to show up there if she was around and also claiming that even if he did whatever plan she had probably wouldn't work. He really had no faith in her, though she couldn't understand why.

"I can't give up yet."

"_Of course you can._"

"But what if he uses it?"

"_Surely even he can't be that stupid._"

"You wanna bet?" Hotaru laughed. "Shigure touted it as the ultimate technique. If he gets in trouble, I don't see any reason for him _not_ to try and use it."

"_I guess so, but—ah, hold on," _Inari broke away from the conversation momentarily and Hotaru could vaguely hear him speaking to someone else, though she had no idea what he was saying. It didn't even sound like Japanese.

"Where the hell are you?"

"_Taipei. Apparently there's some pig flu outbreak here or something and I've got about five different companies looking for my blessing._"

"Ah how glamorous the life of a god must be."

"_Shut up. Anyway, what was I saying?_"

"You were telling me how pretty you think I am."

"_I was saying how you should just give up,"_ Inari snapped back. "_Even if Hiei _does_ use it, what's the harm in it?_"

"I guess you're right. Him _dying _certainly wouldn't be a big deal," Hotaru spat sarcastically.

"_I mean, would it really?_"

"Of course!" she insisted. "Without him the whole team is screwed."

"_What about the alternate?_"

"The alternate is fucking _Koenma_."

"_I know, I'm the one that asked him to do it."_

"Wait, what? Why?"

"_No reason. Just insurance._"

"For what?"

_"Nothing,_" Inari replied dismissively. "_My point is, if you've got a god waiting in the wings, why worry about Hiei? I mean, it's not like we can't just find another one."_

"I don't _want_ to find another one," Hotaru whined. "Just drop it, okay? We're going with my plan. End of story."

"_Not end of story. I really don't like you hanging around there._"

"You sound like you're my mom."

"_I mean it—"_

"'Those boys are baaaaaad neeeews,'" she replied in a mocking tone.

"_Oh stop being a child,"_ he snapped back. "_My point is, you're spending too much time with them._"

"Well I don't really have a choice, so…"

"_I'm worried about you._"

She cringed. "Ew. Please don't say things like that."

"_I am!_"

"Still!" she shot back. "It's weird when you say it! Besides, you have no reason to be worried."

"_You're getting too close to them._"

"No I'm not."

"_You are!"_

"Ugh, would you _stop?_" she groaned. "It's just work!"

"_Perhaps, but even still, you're getting too involved,_" Inari explained sternly. "_You keep hanging around them and the next thing you know you'll be prattling on about the ~*~power of friendship~*~."_

"You sound like a jealous boyfriend."

"_Don't be crude." _

"Then stop over reacting!"

"_I'm _not _overreacting. If you spend too much time with them you're bound to develop some sort of—"_

_ "-_Love connection?"

"_What did I say about being crude?" _ Inari quipped back. _"You've been waiting out there for over a month. If Hiei hasn't shown up by now, he's probably not going to."_

"Yea, well I still have to try."

"_You don't sound too upset about that._"

"Would you stop trying to make this out like I'm doing this because I want to?" Hotaru snapped. "I swear, everyone is out to get me today."

"_You always think everyone is out to get you."_

"Because they always are!"

"_Because you're always doing something stupid._"

"I really don't need to hear that from you of all people," she stated angrily. "Look, I have to go."

"_Hotaru—_"

"Get over it. I have to go. Bye." She snapped the phone shut only to open it again moments later to shut it off entirely. Once it had powered down, she ruffled her hands in her hair, aggravated and unsure of what exactly to do about it.

It wasn't like she had never fought with Inari- actually, she fought with him all the time. But considering the pressure she was under she was hoping that at least _he _would have been sympathetic. Of course, maybe that was a bit too much to ask… considering that one of the people she'd been hanging out with _did _try to kill him.

_Still, _she thought defiantly. _He needs to stop being stupid. As if I'd suddenly get all buddy-buddy with—_

Her mind went blank and her eyes wide as she turned, coming face to face with the man of the hour.

"I'm surprised you get service out here."

Kurama's smile was nothing less than polite, as was his tone. Nevertheless, Hotaru's heart was racing.

_Where the fuck did he come from? Did he hear me? Shit… did I call Inari by his name? I can't remember…. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _She hadn't heard him approach at all and even now, as he walked towards her his footsteps made hardly a sound. Maybe he had purposefully snuck up on her. Maybe she had just been distracted. _Or maybe he's a super-secret-murder-fox…_

She struggled to find an appropriate reply, but it took too long and she was left mumbling, "Um… yea," weakly and without any sense of conviction.

"You wandered quite far," he remarked. "I just wanted to make sure you hadn't gotten lost."

"Who, me? Hah, no way," she said back, hating herself for still sounding nervous.

"Are you finished?"

"With what?" she asked, suddenly bursting into a fresh fit of nervous laughter. "Oh you mean with the phone? Oh… uh… yea. Just… yea."

"Then shall we go?"

"Yea…"

They walked back in silence—the only sound being Hotaru's heavy feet crunching through dry leaves. As before, Kurama moved without causing a single disturbance—his steps not only incredibly light, but inhumanly graceful as well.

She watched him carefully. Nothing about his demeanor seemed threatening—nothing even seemed changed. He didn't seem particularly dangerous at that moment, nor did he seem overly friendly. He was just… still. And it was the stillness that unnerved her the most.

_What the fuck was that about? If all he wanted to do was listen, why even bother showing himself? _She couldn't figure it out. _There's no way he was actually concerned for me… did I make him suspicious? Oh well, duh, of course I did but… I mean, is he just trying to freak me out? Or—_

They were within sight of the clearly when he stopped. She stopped as well, finding her heart rate climbing again as she met his vibrant green eyes with her own. Still, they didn't seem threatening. They seemed almost… nice, though she knew that wasn't the proper word for it.

"A bit of advice," he began slowly. She waited with bated breath. "At the rate you're going you'll never be able to finish reading that book in time for the tournament."

Her heart rate reached new heights and she found it impossible to hide her surprise. _He knew what I was doing the whole time? _

"You should focus your attention on specific chapters, rather than the entirety. I highly doubt anyone on Team Toguro has violated any rules regarding the selling of cigarettes on tournament grounds."

Her eyes narrowed, as if focusing her gaze could reveal how he had known so much. However, this obviously proved fruitless and she was forced to ask directly. "How much do you know about the rules?"

"Apparently as much as you do," he replied coolly. He then shrugged, regarding her with a playfully exasperated look. "Really, what kind of person owns a tournament but isn't familiar with its rules?"

"Shut up," she snapped, her fear dissipating and quickly being replaced with frustration. "It's a big book, alright?"

He strode ahead, his long legs stepping effortlessly through the underbrush. "All the more reason to follow my advice."

She reluctantly followed him back to the field, where he walked out to meet Kuwabara, who was apparently unaware of the conversation that had just transpired. Hotaru, in the meantime, returned to her spot in the shade. Next to her beer can lay the book exactly as she had left it – closed and face down next to her indent on the grass.

She sat down and opened back up to the page she had been on before—defiantly refusing his advice—and continued to read.

'_All such individuals or parties of whom fall under the above specified classifications or, as deemed appropriately related, henceforth named 'proprietors' under Clause 8.14 unless otherwise specified and explained in full, shall at all specified times, locations…' _Her mind phased out momentarily, forced blank due to the dullness. However, she phased back in once again towards the end of the sentence. _'… marketing, selling, trading, or otherwise engaging in acts specified under Clause 14.57, when in regards to the distribution of Class C restricted products, including, but not limited to, pornography, caffeine exceeding 50 milligrams, _tobacco_, et cetera, will be deemed unlawful and forbidden except where…'_

She bit her lip so hard she thought she might break the skin.

_God damn it I hate that guy._

* * *

Fushimi Inari Taisha - 伏見稲荷大社 - the head shrine dedicated to the god Inari Okami, located in Kyoto, Japan. (If you ever go to Japan- hit this shrine up. It's fucking amazing- the one with the thousands and thousands of torii gates.)


	7. Chapter 7: Catching Fish

**A/N:** Woooo on a roll here. Can't stop won't stop can't stop won't stop.

Actually, the reason updates have been slow lately is because I was a bit unsure of how to order the events in these chapters. So, rather than writing all the bits in order, I just wrote them as they came to me. For the past two days all I had to do was write like three sections and edit it, so that's why all these chapters came together so quickly.

* * *

**Kurama**

_16 Years Ago_

"Ah, no, those are mine!" Kurama gave the boy an incredulous look, but it went disregarded as Shouta snatched away the bag of potato chips.

He glared at him, resting his head on his hand. "And what am I supposed to eat?"

"Jeez, I got you something. Relax!" The boy squatted and rummaged through the plastic bag. After a few moments he retrieved a small container filled with inarizushi and handed it over with a wide smile. "It's your favorite, isn't it?"

"No, it's not," Kurama sighed, taking the container begrudgingly. For the fourth time in a row the boy had gotten him inarizushi, despite Kurama's constant protests that he hated the stuff. However, apparently in all the myths foxes_ loved_ inarizushi, so Shouta had continually ignored him.

The boy sat on the floor and began munching his potato chips happily while Kurama popped the top of the container. He put the first piece into his mouth and cringed—it was sweet and sticky. A generally unpleasant sensation. Where ever had that myth come from? These things were disgusting.

It had been two days since Kurama had begun his pretend friendship with Shouta, and every minute of it had been hell. He had been regarded with tale after tale of the boy's family and friends and elementary school. The stories ranged from not-very-interesting to mind-numbingly-boring, but Kurama suffered through them all, even occasionally offering up a smile or enthusiastic nod.

So far he hadn't blacked out again, nor had the blinding flashes of pain returned. He was still sore—in fact, neither his soreness nor his bruises had gotten any better and he was as weak as he had been a few days ago. His power still seemed far out of reach, though truthfully he was a bit uneasy at the thought of even trying to use it. He stayed mostly on the futon, only getting up when absolutely necessary, and Shouta had stayed at his side almost the entire time.

"You were right," the boy began with a mouth full of chewed and soggy chips. "When I told the lady at the store I forgot my money she didn't even mind! She said I could just pay her later! What an idiot, right?"

"Humans can be so foolish."

"I know, huh?" he laughed.

If Kurama had learned anything in the past few days, it was that this boy really _was_ stupid. He had run away from home after crashing the bike his father had bought him—apparently even at 9 years old he didn't have enough sense to just _apologize_, and had instead been living in the woods for the past few weeks. As Kurama had suspected, the woods they were in were near Fushimi Inari Taisha, the largest shrine dedicated to Inari in the entire human realm. Somehow during his delirium he had managed to transport himself to the human realm, though he had unfortunately not made it much farther than that, apparently. Thankfully, however, no one had found them yet.

Kurama had given him a fake name, just in case the boy felt the need to brag about his new 'friend', as well as made up a fake backstory when prodded about his past.

"I was born on a faraway island, and grew up with other foxes," he had told him. And when asked if he was one of Inari's servants, as the foxes in folklore often were, Kurama had merely responded that there was no such thing as gods. And Shouta, in his ignorance, had believed every word.

Nevertheless, Kurama was slowly growing accustomed to the boy. He was messy and quite crude, as well as perhaps the most pathetic being Kurama had ever spent time around. Even in his earliest years, Kurama had lived on his own amongst dangerous men and demons, and as he grew older his company only grew more powerful and more unpredictable. Even within the relative safety of Inari's compound, his companions had been three of the most powerful foxes one could find, as well as a host of other highly skilled beings.

These past few days had been the first time he had ever spent a significant amount of time around such a lesser creature. And although it was quite vexing at times, it was also somewhat comfortable. No matter the situation—even injured and bedridden—Kurama had the upper hand. There was nothing to fight, save for his own persistent injuries, and there was no sense of challenge. There was no game to play.

And though Kurama was quite fond of games, it was also surprisingly nice to relax.

"—And so I told her that I don't play stupid games like that and do you know what she said?"

"What?"

"She said, 'Tetris isn't stupid, it's really hard!' And so I'm like, 'Fine let's play,' and then guess what happened!"

"Did you win?"

"I did! I totally beat her!" Shouta began laughing, clearly quite proud of his victory over one of his old classmates. Kurama chose not to tell him that he had heard this story before—twice, in fact—and instead gave him a kind smile.

"You seem good at games."

"I'm the best at them!" Shouta declared victoriously, striking a pose and grinning. "When you get better we should go play one and I'll prove it to you!"

"I suppose we could do that…"

Kurama tried to readjust his position in the bed, but then decided to just deal with his problem—he had to piss. Forcing himself up off the floor proved difficult, but he was beginning to get a routine down, and Shouta actually did provide some use as a place to rest some of his weight while standing.

Finally on his feet, he moved towards the single door of the small shack and stepped outside. Finding a place amongst the trees, he began to relieve himself, noticing that the bruises _there_ had yet to recede either. _And I'd bet it's just as useless as the rest of me…_

He redirected his vision to out through the woods and couldn't help but feel a profound sadness. The trees that grew around him, beings that at one time felt familiar, seemed distant. Inside the shack he never thought about it, but every time he found himself out here it hit him again—he had lost a part of himself. Without his abilities, trees were merely trees, and he was merely a fox, no better than his younger brethren that stalked the woods. Perhaps worth even _less_ than them.

It was an uncomfortable feeling.

Once he had finished he stumbled his way weakly back into the shack, feeling slightly depressed but mostly tired. Shouta had another mouthful of potato chips and watched him as he struggled back into the bed. He truly did feel useless.

He had always been what one could call 'exceptional'. As soon as he became 'aware'—a moment all foxes reach after 100 years of animal life—he had abilities beyond that of others. Anything he wanted, he had the power to take. Anything he didn't want, he had the power to destroy. In all his days, in his 1,000 or more years life, he had never lost a single fight—save for the one against Inari. And now, that one fight, that one black mark on his record, was dragging him down to depths unimaginable.

He finally managed to sit, pain radiating weakly through his entire body, and laid back. He pulled the blanket back up towards his chin, the desire for sleep—for respite from his unpleasant thoughts—taking over.

"Shouta, I'm sorry but I'm feeling a bit—"

Suddenly he stopped, and his eyes went wide. He felt around beneath the heavy blanket, but all he felt was the sheet beneath. Fighting the sharp pain, he shot up suddenly, his hands searching frantically for what he had lost. His head began to pound from the quick movements, and the pain grew more intense, but his search did not stop. It wasn't there.

He turned to Shouta, his anger apparent with all pretenses of kindness gone. "You took it."

The boy was staring on, wide eyed, and, as expected, he began to shake. "I… I don't…"

"Shut up, _boy_," he snapped. "Where is it?"

The boy just shook his head, slowly crawling backwards. Without second thought, Kurama used what strength he had to pounce from the bed, landing atop the boy and pinning him to the ground. As he held him there he felt his arms weakening quickly, and the pain in his head had grown at such a rate that his vision was blurry. Despite this, he fought his weakness and searched the boy with the other hand. It only took a few minutes to find it.

It was hidden under his t-shirt—the _shinsatsuki_.

As soon as Kurama held the blade, he felt his panic wash away, yet the pain in his head and the weakness in his limbs remained.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the boy cried, tears rolling down his face. "I didn't want you to be mad!"

"Why… did you take this?" Kurama asked, his voice as weak as his arms and barely above a whisper. Pain flashed through him, and everything began to go dark.

"I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

"You…" He tried to focus, but soon all he could see was blackness, all he could hear was crying, and all he could feel was pain. He then lost consciousness.

_Have you wondered what it would be like to be a god? _

When he woke again, it was already dark. Shouta was still within the shack, curled up in the corner underneath a heavy coat. Somehow, he had managed to move Kurama back to the bed—and next to him, in plain view, was the _shinsatsuki_. He hadn't tried to take it—not really.

The next morning Kurama questioned him about it. The boy had apparently spotted it when Kurama got up to go outside, and had been curious. Knowing that knives were not something to be played with, and knowing it was probably important, the boy had hidden it so he wouldn't make Kurama angry.

It had taken a bit of coaxing, and quite a bit of lying, but eventually the air had been cleared. Kurama told the boy that the knife was a family heirloom, which, of course, he believed, and the boy agreed to never touch it again. Kurama apologized for being so brash and by the afternoon things were back to normal. They talked, and Shouta told the same stories as ever, and around sunset he went out to scrounge up some food for the two of them.

He returned by nightfall, carrying with him more chips, a single coke, and, naturally, inarizushi. He then set about telling him the tale of how he had outwitted yet another hapless shopkeep with a lie about missing allowance money.

"It sure is nice being a kid!" he laughed. "People will believe almost anything!"

"Enjoy your youth while it lasts."

"Oh I am! But being an adult sounds fun too… I can't wait till I'm tall like you are and everyone takes me serious."

"You think you'll be as tall as I am?"

"Taller!" Shouta jumped up, standing on the tips of his toes and reaching high above his head. "My dad's really tall, so that means I will be to! That's how it works, you know."

"Is it?"

"Hey! By the way," he began, getting back down onto his knees and looking up at Kurama with a pleading gaze. "Do you think that maybe once you're better you can help me?"

"Help you do what?"

"Help train me, of course!" He balled up his small hands into little fists, punching at the air and grinning. "I want to learn to fight like demons do! I want to be super powerful like you are!"

"Well, I don't know if I can help you that much—"

"—Oh please, please! I'll do anything! I'll get you all the inarizushi you want!"

"I really don't want any…"

"Please! Please say you will!" The boy clapped his hands together in a prayer position and bowed deeply. "I'll be the best student ever, I promise!"

Kurama was a bit dumbfounded, but figured it would serve no purpose to disappoint the boy. He sighed and then smiled at him. "Alright, I promise. Once I get better I'll teach you how to fight."

"YES!" The boy screamed, jumping up at once. He began running frantically around the shack, punching and kicking at imaginary opponents. "See? I'm already pretty good, right?"

"You certainly are."

"Back in school, I was one of the fastest runners, too!"

"Were you?"

"Yep! I could run faster than any of the other boys in my class, and most of the girls too. But girls are faster cause they have stronger legs."

"I'm not sure if that's entirely accurate…"

"It is so! My mama told me that once—that girls have strong legs and boys have strong arms and that's why… um… that's why… oh well, I don't know why, but that's what she said!"

"Well I suppose it may be true."

"Yea, my teacher once said—"

Then, there was a knock.

Both Kurama and Shouta looked to the door immediately. The shack was in the middle of the woods—a few miles away from the nearest road or suburb. The chances of someone wandering by were slim, and the chances of someone coming by and knocking were even slimmer.

Shouta backed away from the door, fear stricken and crawled up closer to Kurama. "Do… do you think it's the police?" he whispered, his voice wavering.

"I doubt it." Kurama's eyes were narrowed, and he attempted to see past the door and sense whoever was there, but it was no use.

There was another knock, louder and stronger than before.

"Could it be a demon?"

"Perhaps."

"Should… should I answer it?"

"No."

Kurama's mind was racing—he was powerless to fight whoever was on the other side. He could hardly even walk, after all. And though he couldn't see who was there or sense their power, he knew why they had come—someone, one of Inari's men, had found him.

Another knock.

He braced himself, unsure of what to do and choosing instead to play it by ear. He'd find a way out of this—some trick, something. He wasn't going to die here—not in this stupid little shack, with this stupid little boy, hiding like a wounded animal.

There was a bang, then dust, and the candle in the corner was snuffed out by the wind. The door had been blown off its hinges—in fact, the entirety of the east-facing wall was gone. And as the dust cleared, his opponent, or rather _opponents_, came into view.

There were three of them, though not the type of assassins Kurama had been expecting. They were in uniform—the uniform of the Reikai Defense Force, a highly skilled group of Reikai warriors that served under King Enma directly. This was good—better than if they had been servants of Inari's. Reikai protected the human realm and its inhabitants – a human hostage may actually be of some use, and Shouta was the perfect kid for just that purpose.

Kurama grabbed the_ shinsatsuki_, fighting through the pain that accompanied sudden movement, and reached out for the boy. He caught him by the neckline of his t-shirt and pulled him close, pressing the knife to his neck and looking back at the three SDF agents defiantly.

"Step any closer and I cut his throat," Kurama growled.

One of them—a tall man with wild blue hair and a large golden earring, stepped forward regardless. Kurama pressed the knife into the boy's skin in response, drawing blood. He could hear Shouta's soft whimpering, but forced himself to ignore it.

"Doing that won't help you any," the man remarked.

Kurama grinned wickedly back at him. "I doubt it'll hurt."

"Oh… it'll hurt."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning."

"You're Reikai agents, correct?" Kurama began with a wicked grin, digging the knife in further.

"We are."

"Then it's safe to say you'll be in quite a lot of trouble should you needlessly allow him to die. Perhaps it would be best to come back later."

Another agent, one in the back, began laughing, while the blue haired man merely smiled. "You don't seem to understand the situation," he began slowly.

"I understand it perfectly well. You—"

The blast came quick and ruthlessly. A blinding blue light was shot out and struck him directly. It burned and he could smell his hair and skin turning to ash. He didn't fall into darkness, this time. Nor did he see the blinding flashes of white. There was only a moment where he felt himself burning away, and then another where he felt nothing at all. He didn't know if Shouta had been hit or not, or if it had been the blue haired man that had fired the shot. All he knew was that the pain of the blast was far less than what he had experienced the past week, and that despite this he was going to die from it. Then, there was nothing.

**Kuwabara**

_Five Days till the Tournament_

He sat at his desk, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the clock as if his life depended on it. He just wanted this day to be over—to go home, sit on his couch, and watch the new episode of _StalkerxStalker_.

He knew he couldn't though. Or at least, he _shouldn't_. The tournament was in less than a week, and despite Kurama's constant nagging, he still hadn't gone to the front office to explain why he'd be absent for a whole week.

_Why can't they schedule this thing during winter break? _He thought angrily. _I guess not too many people our age enter… _

The bell suddenly rang. The next period would be starting in ten minutes. Their professor bowed and took his leave and all of the students around him began chatting to their friends, eating, or, in the case of the better students, reviewing their notes for the next class. Kuwabara, however, stayed silent.

_None of these guys have any idea what this is like, do they? _He thought solemnly. For as long as he could remember, he hated school. He hated conforming to these seemingly arbitrary rules. He hated the cutthroat atmosphere that middle school life encouraged. He just wanted to hang out with his friends, get in a few fights, and play video games.

Now, however, things were a bit different. Now he was involved in something bigger… something heavier. And he had found himself feeling nostalgic for his old life.

When he had entered Genkai's tournament, unknowingly with Urameshi at his side, he hadn't thought twice about it. Neither had he thought twice when they went to meet those four beasts up in that castle. And he definitely hadn't thought about it when he had agreed to help Urameshi rescue Yukina. Of course, that had definitely been worth it, because he had met the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but now…

Now he couldn't help but wish he wasn't involved. At first it was kind of fun—he finally had confirmation that all those spirits he had seen throughout his life weren't just delusions. There was this whole secret world out there, with new foes and new challenges. He had something to do besides just school—not to mention that it made him feel a bit… _special_. Now it made sense why he always performed so poorly in school—he was meant for something else.

But this newest development—their entrance into the tournament—had made him realize how naïve he had really been. The idea of a fighting tournament where competitors battle to the death made him sick to his stomach. What made him feel worse was the realization that there was nothing they could do to stop it. They had no choice to compete.

He really had been naïve. This new world wasn't some fun adventure—it was serious business. And now, due to his ignorance, he was involved with no way of getting out of it.

Despite the fact that he was facing such dire circumstances, he found himself almost as worried about his absence from school as he was about his imminent death. Kurama had told him to say that he was attending some sort of family engagement.

_'Be vague. They won't ask you any personal details, and if you're vague then there will be less opportunity for them to catch you in the lie.'_

Kuwabara grimaced at the memory. Someone like Kurama, some top-of-the-class pretty boy didn't understand anything about his circumstances. They'd never believe him. _What am I going to do? _He thought to himself, starting to sweat as the pressure mounted. He needed to come up with something, and the sooner the better.

"Hey Kuwabara!"

He looked up. Keiko stood before him, wearing a friendly smile. He hadn't even seen her coming. "Oh, hey Keiko."

"You seem distracted," she said with a worried look. "Are you okay?"

"Oh totally! Totally fine! Nothing wrong here!" he laughed, practically shouting in his sad attempt at lying.

She frowned and he started sweating under his gaze. Luckily, she didn't seem to question his obvious deception. "I was wondering… have you heard from Yusuke yet?"

Kuwabara looked away. He couldn't very well tell Keiko that Yusuke was off training with an old reiki master so that he could fight a super strong demon in a death-match tournament held by the largest mafia in the world. So instead he just kept with his old lie. "No clue where he is… or what he's doing. Nope. Not me! No clue! Haha… hah…"

Keiko frowned again. "I figured as much." She crossed her arms and scowled. "I swear, he's so irresponsible! It's been almost two whole months already!"

"Uh… yea, haha, no kidding…"

"He could at least tell us where he's going when he disappears like this," she continued.

She was about to say something more when she was cut off by an announcement over the loud speaker. "Attention. Attention. Could Kazuma Kuwabara please come to the front office. Attention. Attention. Could Kazuma Kuwabara please come to the front office."

He stood quickly, eager to get away from his awkward conversation with Keiko. "Sorry, I gotta go I guess!"

"Oh, uh… okay…"

Kuwabara left the classroom and moved down the hallway fast. He didn't know why they were calling him, but he couldn't help but feel nervous. There was no way they had caught him in his lie- he hadn't even lied yet. Nevertheless, he was still anxious.

He was feeling pretty confused by the time he reached the front office, but once he entered he just got more confused. Standing there, with the secretary and Principal Takenaka was, of all people, Hotaru. He entered wide eyed, making no attempt to hide his surprise.

Immediately, Hotaru burst into tears. "Oh, Kazuma! Oh, you poor boy," she cried, throwing herself at him and wrapping him in a tight hug.

He was sure his face had turned a vibrant shade of red. He had never been hugged by a girl before, except his sister, and that combined with the surprise of it all made him rather embarrassed. Of course, it's not like he was attracted to Hotaru in any sense—she was a girl, definitely, but not really his type. Plus he had Yukina, who, despite the fact that they weren't dating, was the only girl he wanted to do this sort of thing with. Nevertheless, he felt the heat on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Kazuma, but I have the worst news."

Kuwabara was confused. First of all, Hotaru never called him by his first name and the familiarity was somewhat discomforting. Secondly, he had no idea what kind of news she might have, or why she was going to tell him here. At school. In front of Takenaka. _Is it Urameshi? Did something happen to him? Or Kurama? Hiei? Oh no, don't tell me it's Yukina! _

"The worst thing has happened," Hotaru cried, still clutching him firmly with tears running down her face. "Your mother… she…"

"She what?"

"She got into an accident," Hotaru mumbled softly. "She… she didn't make it."

For a moment, Kuwabara's heart stopped and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Then he remembered… his mother had died nearly 10 years ago.

Hotaru pulled away, looking at him with red, puffy eyes and with tears running down her face. "I'm so sorry to tell you this now. The rest of the family is at the hospital- I've already spoken to Mr. Takenaka and he says it's fine if you take some time off from school, so I figured we could go together to… well… say goodbye…"

Kuwabara just stared at her, unsure of what exactly she was getting at. However, only a few moments afterwards, he realized what was going on, and did his best to seem upset.

"Oh that's so horrible!" he shouted awkwardly. "My mother! Ooooooh, my mother!"

Hotaru visibly grimaced. "Uh, yes… your mother. We should get going."

"Oh, how will I ever deal with this!?"

"Hey, don't… um…"

"Mother!"

"Ah…"

"MOTHER!"

* * *

"Sorry," Kuwabara said weakly. "I was just trying to be convincing."

Hotaru sighed resting back against the train door. "Well, I'll tell you now that shouting is _not _the way to do that."

"Right…"

"No worries though," she continued with a smile. "They believed the whole thing, so you're good to go for as long as you need. You might even be able to swing a week off after the tournament too."

Kuwabara's vision went out of focus and he found himself staring at the ground. "Yea… if I make it that far…"

"You will," Hotaru stated plainly, though her face betrayed her lack of confidence. "The tournament isn't that bad… the Toguro Team may be a problem but… you'll be fine. You'll definitely be fine."

"Yea…" he mumbled quietly. They fell into an uncomfortable silence for the next two stops. Kuwabara merely stared at his feet while Hotaru scanned the train, obviously uncomfortable. The third stop was for a popular shopping district. That's when she spoke up.

"Hey… wanna go do something fun?"

Kuwabara looked up at her, slightly confused. "Something… fun?"

"Yea. You don't have to meet with Kurama until four o'clock, right? Let's go do something fun!"

"Like what?"

"We'll think of something! Let's go!" she suddenly grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him out of the train, onto the platform, and then continuing to pull him through the rest of the station. "You ever gotten drunk before?"

"Uh…."

* * *

"You… you know what…" Hotaru mumbled, mostly incoherently, her face pressed firmly against the bar top. "Kuwabara… you're my favorite…"

"… You… you don't mean," Kuwabara looked back at her, his head swimming. He leaned in close, a redness rising to his cheeks. "… You want to have sex with me?"

The slap came quickly, and was entirely unexpected, nearly knocking Kuwabara from his seat on the bar stool. "No, not like that!" She hiccupped, raising her head momentarily only to lower it back down onto the bar top.

"Oh thank god," Kuwabara sighed with relief, earning him another slap.

"I mean you're the…. You're the nicest of all of them."

"I... I am?"

He had never been drunk before. Of course, he had lied and said that he got drunk all the time—what kind of kid hasn't snuck alcohol from their parents' cabinet at least once in their life? He didn't want to seem childish. But the truth was, he had never drank, save for a few tastes from one of his sister's beers. Nevertheless, he had been persistent in trying to cover up this rather embarrassing fact. However, he was starting to think this may have been a mistake.

He had just been trying to match Hotaru's pace, but that had proven to be impossible. Even after he stopped trying to keep up with her, it was already too late and he felt practically delirious.

"You are, you are!" Hotaru slurred out. "Yusuke's nice… but I guess I don't know him super well…"

"He is nice…" Kuwabara cooed.

"You like him?"

"Well…" Kuwabara thought on it a moment. He still didn't know if Urameshi regarded him as a friend, but _he_ certainly felt like they were. "Yea, I guess I do like him."

Hotaru sat up and gave him a hard look. Kuwabara looked back at her, trying to match her intensity but finding it difficult. His vision kept fading in and out of focus.

"You mean like…" she slurred. "Like… BL?"

"Not like that!"

She burst into a fit of giggles, as did the bartender. The bar they were in was small—about the size of his living room—a tiny place on the seventh floor of a nameless building in the downtown shopping mall. Most of the other bars were closed, but this one alone had been open, though he didn't know why. It didn't seem very popular—after all, they were the only ones in there. Probably the only ones in all of Sarayashiki that were drunk this early in the afternoon—except maybe Atsuko. Maybe his sister too…

Hotaru drooped her head down drunkenly, before falling completely onto the bar top once again. "I mean it though… you… you and Yusuke too, I guess... You guys… you're so much better than those other two."

"You mean Kurama and Hiei?"

She shot up again, looking at him with upmost seriousness. "Don't let them ruin you!"

He stared at her, before bursting out into laughter. She didn't seem to get the joke.

"I mean it! Don't let them ruin your… your… childish wonder!"

"I'm not a kid, you know."

"Whatever."

"I'm not!"

"You're only fourteen. You're still a kid."

"I don't want to hear things like that!" the bartender shouted suddenly, placing his hands over his ears and moving to the back room. "You two carry on. I was never here~"

Hotaru watched him go before turning back to Kuwabara. "I mean it. They're bad people."

"Kurama doesn't seem so bad—"

"—He's the worst!" She shouted. Her hands clenched into fists and her eyes got a weird, crazy vibe to them. "He's definitely the worst."

Kuwabara wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, but in his drunkenness he lost all sense of social propriety. "You're being too hard on him." She shot him a dangerous look, which he completely ignored. "He's helped me out a lot lately."

"Well… yea, but…" she grimaced. "He's still a bad guy."

"Without him I'd be a lot more scared than I am," Kuwabara said—a fact he probably wouldn't have admitted to without the strong effect of the alcohol. "I feel a lot more prepared now."

"Tsk. Even _I _could have trained you better," she scoffed.

Kuwabara narrowed his eyes at her in an attempt to decipher her meaning, but found nothing. "What do you mean?"

"Fighting's just like… you know…" she began gesturing wildly with her hands. "POW! SMACK! That sort of thing, right?"

"It's a lot more than that!" He retorted defensively. "It's about testing your strength and learning about your opponent! Pitting yourself against another man and pushing your limits is the essence of it. It's not just hitting people, it's like… it's something bigger than that."

"… Are you sure this isn't BL?"

"It's not BL!"

Hotaru started giggling and Kuwabara sulked. He couldn't really blame her for not understanding—girls typically didn't understand this sort of thing, or at least none of the girls he had met had. Still though, he wondered—girls like Hotaru, or like Botan, or maybe even Yukina… they couldn't be like the other girls he had known. So far his experience with the Makai and Reikai had been nothing but violent. Demons were vicious creatures constantly looking for a fight and constantly out for blood. If Hotaru and the other girls had been living in that world for so long—this world he was just getting to know—surely they had to have some experience right? After all, Hotaru owned the Dark Tournament. There was no way she was as sheltered or as delicate as the girls at school.

He looked back at her, trying to size her up. This world was dangerous, and anyone who lived in it must be equally dangerous in order to survive. Nevertheless, no matter how hard he focused she really didn't _seem_ dangerous. She just seemed drunk—giggling and red in the face, downing her umpteenth beer in practically a single go.

"What's your deal?" he asked suddenly. As soon as the words spilled out of his mouth he wished he could take them back, but thankfully Hotaru took them in stride and just smiled.

"My deal?" she repeated with a laugh. "I'm an angel sent from Heaven to defend the weak."

He scowled at her. If there was one thing he had learned about her in the past few months, it was that she was never serious. Even when she got angry, it always seemed to him like she was just playing around—getting mad just for the sake of it. She didn't seem to really _care_ about anything—not like the rest of them.

Kuwabara had his friends and his sister to protect, Kurama had his mother, Yusuke had Keiko and Atsuko, Hiei had… well, he wasn't quite sure what Hiei had, but he figured the guy had something. Or maybe he just had a passion for killing things. Either way, he _cared_. But Hotaru just seemed sort of… vacant. Or maybe it was just distant?

"What's your deal _really_?" Kuwabara asked, leaning in close and examining her like some science project.

She laughed again. "Okay, okay, I'm not an angel… I'm the devil! And I'm here to steal your soul~!"

"Would you be serious?!"

"Serious?" Hotaru looked confused, and slightly amused by his intent stare. She laughed again. "How can I be serious with a question like that? '_What's your deal'_? What's _your _deal?"

He sat up proudly and proclaimed in a large voice: "I'm Kazuma Kuwabara, 14 years old and the toughest guy at Sarayashiki Junior High!"

"Jesus Christ…"

"What!?" he retorted. "_That's_ my deal, now what's yours!"

She started laughing again, before mimicking his proud pose and calling out: "I'm Hotaru and… I… uh… I'm… shit."

"See! I knew it!" he shouted accusatively. "Even _you_ don't know what your deal is!"

"Well it's a stupid question!"

"Okay, okay…" Kuwabara began slowly. "We'll start smaller… how old are you?"

"Older than you."

"How many _years_ old?"

"A few."

"Would you just answer the question!"

"I'm old enough that I lived through the Onin War."

"When was that?"

She shrugged. "Not my fault if you don't know history."

"Can you just give me a number already?" he demanded.

She looked back at him with a playful grin. "Of course I can't. Don't you know it's rude to ask a woman her age?"

He looked away, feeling embarrassed for having committed yet another social faux-pas. He had heard that alcohol can do those sorts of things to people, but he had never really expected it to be true. Unfortunately, it was far truer than he had ever dreamed of, and he found himself questioning her recklessly once again. "Fine, okay, then just tell me this… are you a demon?"

"No."

"Are you a human?"

"No."

"… Are you a vampire?"

"What? No, of course not," she replied with a cringe. "I'm not some shitty fanfiction character, you know."

He examined her once again before groaning in frustration and slamming his hands down on the table. "Then what are you?!"

"Jesus, what's with you?!" she asked back, equally as frustrated. "A couple of drinks and suddenly you're some kind of interrogator…"

"I'm just trying to learn more about you."

"Well this isn't the way you do that!" she protested. "You don't just ask people what 'their deal' is! You spend some time with them and _slowly_ learn more about who they are. You can't just put all their qualities on some list! This shit takes time!"

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair defiantly. "You've been hanging around me and the others since we fought those four monster guys… and you've been with me and Kurama _every day_ for the past two months, but I _still _don't know anything about you!"

"You know _plenty _about me," she retorted. She began counting on her fingers. "I mean, you know my name… you know we like the same TV shows… you know I like drinking, and I smoke… you know… uh… you know… well, whatever man, there's like a whole list of things!"

"It's a pretty short list…"

"Well maybe I'm a short-list person!" she snapped back, though Kuwabara wasn't entire sure that sort of description was a thing.

He turned to her, his expression serious and his gaze probing. "How do I know you're not a spy?"

"Who the hell would I be spying for?"

"Team Toguro?"

"Yea fucking right."

"Kurama said you knew them!"

"Yea, well like I said—Kurama's an asshole."

"So you _don't_ know them?"

"Of course I know them."

"So then you're a liar!"

Hotaru heaved a heavy sigh, dropping her head and looking defeated. Kuwabara just stared at her in silence, his gaze narrowed and his attention focused squarely on her—though he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, he found himself trying to emulate Kurama. That guy could always get a read on people by looking at them like this, so he figured he could too.

Finally, she spoke up. "I do know them, but I'm _not_ a spy."

"How does that work?" Kuwbara asked, honestly confused. "You can't be friends with both sides, you know."

"_Well_…"

He scowled. "Are you on our side or theirs?"

"Is that what this has all been about?"

"Not really, but now that I've thought of it I think it's kind of an important question," Kuwabara admitted with no hint of shame. "Who's side are you on?"

"Yours," Hotaru groaned.

"Who's side are you on _really_?"

"_Yours_," she repeated again.

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"You swear?"

"Ugh yes, I fucking swear."

"If you break that you have to swallow a thousand needles, you know."

"_I know_," Hotaru stated firmly. Kuwabara finally fell silent, feeling somewhat satisfied, but mostly just feeling too drunk to continue questioning her. At this point he could barely remember how this conversation had even started.

They both went silent, but it didn't last for long. Hotaru spoke up after a bit and when she did, Kuwabara found himself a bit taken aback by what she had to say.

"You four are the most important things in my life right now," she admitted quite seriously. Her words were slurred and her tone was off—she was still quite clearly drunk—but saying something like _that_... Kuwabara wasn't sure if her drunkness meant she'd be more honest, or if it meant she'd say more things she didn't mean. But either way, he found himself swept up in it.

"We'll win this tournament," he said with a wide smile on his face. "We won't let you down."

"You better not."

"You're supposed to say, 'I know you won't.'"

"Whatever," Hotaru replied with a shrug, before calling out to the barkeep hiding in the back. "Ryousuke, two more please!"

**Hotaru **

"I'm blaming you for this."

"I figured you would," she said with a shrug. Only a few feet away from her and Kurama, Kuwabara lay in the bushes vomiting violently.

"What tricks did you have to pull?"

"I didn't _trick_ him," she replied with a slight smile. "I just figured he could use a break. The kid's a wreck."

"Breaks aren't going to help him," Kurama said sternly. "The only thing that I can help him now is practice."

"We'll just agree to disagree then."

"We will not."

"Ugh, can you guys stop fighting?" Kuwabara groaned from his place beyond the tree line. "It's making me feel worse."

Hotaru looked back at Kurama with a grin, to which he responded with an angry glare. He brought a few fingers to his temple, rubbing out an apparent tension headache. After a few minutes, he sighed hopelessly, resigning himself to the inconvenient truth. "I guess we'll have no choice but to cancel today."

"No, we don't have to!" Kuwabara called out. "I can still—oh god…"

He began vomiting again and Hotaru couldn't help but giggle. Kurama didn't take to this very well however and shot her another dangerous look. "Even for you this was incredibly irresponsible."

"You're overreacting," she cooed with a smile. "It's not that bad."

"It _is_ that bad."

"Everyone needs to have some fun once and a while."

"I never should have agreed to let you hang around here."

"Oh come on, this isn't _my _fault!"

"This is _entirely_ your fault."

Hotaru was about to protest, when another voice spoke for her. "If he wasn't so stupid, he never would have agreed in the first place."

They both turned to find Hiei standing only a few feet away under the shadow of the bamboo.

"Hiei!" Hotaru shouted happily, causing the small demon to grimace and withdraw slightly.

Kurama sighed, offering him a smile, albeit an exasperated one. "Of all the times to come out of hiding, you chose now. And just to agree with her at that."

"I'm not agreeing with her," Hiei stated plainly. "But you expected too much from him."

"And, as always, you expected too little," Kurama quipped back.

Hotaru quickly approached him, a huge smile on her face. "I'm so glad to see you, Hiei! I've been waiting for you!"

He scowled, looking slightly disgusted at the idea. "Why?"

"I wanted to give you a bit of advice—"

"—Not interested."

"Oh come on," she pleaded. With every step closer she took, he took another one away. "It's really important! Just hear me out, okay?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!" he shouted back again, almost seeming childish in his tone. She stopped, then suddenly took off running towards him in a vague attempt to catch him. Of course it was in vain—he bounded away almost instantaneously, appearing seconds later clear across the field.

"Did you need something?" Kurama called out him.

"Where are we supposed to meet?" he called back.

"There's a dock—you know the one— in between Harigaoka and Yamamura!"

"That one with the weird flags?"

"That's it," Kurama replied. "And don't be late!"

Hiei turned, a slight grin on his face. "I'll see what I can do."

He was about to bound away, before Hotaru called out to him again, running out into the field, though quite slowly. "Wait, Hiei! Please, I really need to talk to you!"

"I have no interest in whatever it is you want to say."

"Please!"

"No."

He took another step towards the tree line, when Hotaru spoke again, but this time in a low voice. "Don't make me threaten you, Hiei."

He turned slowly, a vicious grin on his face. "And just how do you intend to threaten me?"

"You'll have to talk to me, if you want to know," she replied with a grin equally vicious. He paused, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "So? Will you hear me out?"

* * *

Hiei, Hotaru, and Kurama were standing in a small circle, about a half mile from where they had been. Kurama had wanted to look after Kuwabara, to make sure he was okay, but Hiei had insisted he come along—apparently he was a bit nervous about meeting with Hotaru alone, though nothing in his body language or tone of voice would have betrayed this fact.

"So what is it?" he demanded angrily, obviously unhappy with how she had forced him into this conversation.

"You sure hate small talk, don't you?" she slurred.

Hiei clasped a hand over his nose. "What the hell is that stench?"

"Alcohol," Kurama explained with a sigh. "It would seem she's quite drunk."

"I am not," she slurred again. "It was only a few beers."

"You smell like shit."

"You're one to talk," she spat back. Hiei glared back at her, and she sighed. Fighting would get them nowhere. She then smiled at him—a friendly, light hearted smile—in an attempt to break the foul mood. "Let's just get this little talk over with, huh?"

"Fine."

She began slowly. "I have just the tiniest bit of advice for you… it's about the tournament. Nothing big—just… well, a tip, I guess I should say."

"… So?"

"Well…" she shuffled her feet, a bit unsure of how to broach the subject. "There's a certain technique—you probably know which one I'm talking about."

"Perhaps. What of it?"

"Well, it's just that... I need you to not use it."

"Oh?" Hiei finally returned her smile, though his was far less friendly and far more threatening. "And why is that?"

"It's just that… It's dangerous. You know that. And I don't think that you should be taking the risk, when the wellbeing of the entire team may be at risk."

"Oh really?"

The tension was mounting, but it suddenly broke as Kurama spoke up. "Pardon me for asking, but what technique are you speaking of?"

"Not really any of your business, don't you think?"

"She's speaking of the _Jaou Ensatsu Kokuryuuhaa_." As Hiei said it, drawing out each syllable, he grinned at her, obviously aware of how much his explanation would piss her off.

She tried not to take the bait, but couldn't help but bristle a bit. "Yea, that's the one."

"I've heard of that technique," Kurama said softly, staring wide eyed at Hiei. "They say no one has ever survived its use."

"It would seem that way." Hiei did not remove his gaze from Hotaru.

She didn't look away either. "Like I said, it's a bad idea to use it."

"I'm not afraid of it, if that's what you're thinking," Hiei snapped. "And if I have to, I _will_ use it."

"It wouldn't be smart to."

"And since when are you an expert on fighting?"

"It's incredibly dangerous," Hotaru snapped back. "And even if it _does_ work, if someone sees that you can use it—"

"—Then they'll know they're no match for me… right?"

Hiei was still grinning at her, his eyes shining wickedly, and Hotaru was feeling more and more upset by the minute. She took a moment to breathe however, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. Once her eyes opened again, she met Hiei's gaze fully, her confidence regained.

"I figured you might see it that way," she said, all hints of anger or frustration gone from her voice.

Hiei didn't appear to be breaking either, though. "Then why bring it up?"

"Because it's a bad idea," she explained simply. "And whether you're willing to accept that or not, doesn't really matter. You will _not_ be using it. End of story."

"You think you can control me?" he growled.

She laughed back at him. "Of course not! You're _far _beyond my control—I realized that quite a while ago…. However… There are certain things I _can_ control."

"Like?"

She continued to smile at him, her friendly demeanor not faltering in the slightest. "You must be very excited for Yukina to immigrate to Ningenkai. As it stands, she should have no problem getting approval… so long as no one interferes, that is."

Finally Hiei lost his temper, his energy spiking, visually showing itself and causing a great wind to stir around them. The aura hit her in an instant—chilling her to the bone and almost knocking the wind out of her. It was dark, and even with her little awareness she could sense something quite uncontrollable about it. Nevertheless, she stood her ground and her expression remained as calm as ever.

"Do not threaten her," Hiei snarled, his voice low—barely audible under the enormous wind.

"Relax! I never said I was going to _do_ anything. I was just saying that… well…" Suddenly, her voice dropped and her eyes turned as perilous as his were. "I could if I wanted to."

Hiei grasped the hilt of his blade, his face deadly serious and his Jagan glowing beneath its wrapping. "Do you realize the position you're in?"

"Don't," Kurama stated without warning, surprisingly causing Hiei to immediately withdraw. Despite the fact that he had just helped her, his expression was only slightly less terrifying than Hiei's.

Hotaru smiled him, her friendly demeanor back once more. "Glad to see that at least one of you has some sense." She extended her smile to Hiei as well, who looked just as threatening as he had before. "Really, I'm on your side! When will you two learn to trust me?"

Neither responded, but they didn't remove their respective gazes either. Hotaru barely acknowledge their anger, her expression as calm and happy as if they were speaking of the weather. Hiei was furious—that much was plain to see—but he made no moves against her, and his wind soon died down.

Once it had, Hotaru took her turn to speak again, her voice sickeningly sweet. "So, we're in agreement then?"

Hiei did not respond.

"I'll take that as a yes." She picked a stick up from the ground, writing her home address and drawing a large circle around it. A portal appeared in an instant and she dropped down to the ground, her legs dangling through the break in space-time. "Anyway, that was all I wanted to say, so I guess I'll be going now. I hope you're not too mad. This is for your own good, after all!"

"Whatever."

"You're so cold, Hiei," she moaned with a childish pout. "Well, it's fine I guess, so long as we're on the same page... I'll see you guys soon!" She gave them a friendly wave before dropping the rest of her body through the portal and calling out to them as she went. "Bye~"

She landed in her apartment's living room, the portal closing behind her. Though she landed on her feet, her legs quickly gave out beneath her and she collapsed. Her eyes were wide, her hands were shaking, and her heart was beating out of her chest. Her confident facade had faded in an instant, replaced with pure terror.

_Just relax. It's over now, _she thought in a futile attempt to calm herself down. She had been expecting Hiei to react poorly to her threat—she had even been expecting him to attempt some form of retaliation—but she hadn't been expecting _that_. That aura—the raw, unadulterated rage… she had almost backed down then and there. The only thing that had kept her going was the fact that she knew she had to convince him. For both his sake, and hers.

_It's over. He's not going to use it. Everything is going to be fine… Relax. Just fucking relax._

* * *

Inarizushi - 稲荷寿司 - A type of sushi consisting of a fried tofu pocket covered in sweet sauce and stuffed with rice. Occasionally other things are in there too. It's named after the god Inari, who is said to have a love of the sweet, fried tofu. In folklore, spirit foxes, which are commonly the servants and messengers of Inari, also have a fondness for the stuff.

Jao Ensatsu Kokuryuuha - 邪王炎殺黒龍波 - translated in the English version as the 'Dragon of the Darkness Flame,' though a more literal translation would be, 'Wicked King's Killing, Blazing Black Dragon Wave.' Obviously this doesn't really roll off the tongue very well, though.

Fushimi Inari Taisha - 伏見稲荷大社 - the head shrine dedicated to the god Inari Okami.

Shinsatsuki - 神察機 - "God Killing Mechanism" - small blades that have the power to kill gods. Extremely rare; created and used by the Zennin of Zenkai.

Fun fact, this is the kanji for the SDF: 霊界特別防衛隊, reading Reikai Tokubestu Boueitai. However, even in the Japanese version I believe it's abbreviated as the SDF (Special Defense Force).


	8. Chapter 8: Cats Crying for Mice

**Hiei **

"So?"

"She's lying."

"Hn. Figures."

Hiei looked down at the fox, who was leaning against the tree in which Hiei was perched. The sun was already long set, and the shadows in the park obscured his features, but Hiei could easily tell there was something different. He seemed angry. Not outwardly so, but the his own brand of irritated – quiet, and distant. Most may not have noticed, but Hiei had spent enough time around him by now to know the signs.

Just that morning, Hiei had finally relented and decided to approach his teammates. He hadn't paid much attention when he was given his invitation, and needed to find out where they were to meet. He had been hoping that would be all, and that he could make the conversation brief, but of course his plans had been ruined and _of course_ it had been Hotaru who had ruined them.

He didn't like being threatened.

He particularly disliked the fact that despite the girl's stupid demeanor, she seemed to know exactly where and how to strike him hardest. He was prideful, sometimes too much so—even he could admit that—but when it came to matters of his sister he found himself buckling to her will far too easily. He hadn't had the conviction to ignore her threats.

However, oddly enough, Kurama had offered to help. Hiei initially refused, not wanting to deal with or even address the issue, but once Kurama had told him his plan he decided to go ahead with it. He offered to find out if the girl was lying by doing some 'exploration' around Reikai. Hiei didn't quite know why he wanted to, but hadn't bothered to ask, as the reason was unnecessary information. Similarly, now that Kurama stood returned from his mission, he didn't bother to find out what he had discovered that perturbed him so.

"It stated within her file that she is forbidden from interfering with matters of immigration," the boy explained from below him, his voice distant and his gaze focused elsewhere.

Hiei laughed at the convenience of it. "That seems oddly specific."

"Apparently there was an _incident_."

"What sort of incident?"

"It didn't say," Kurama stated flatly. "Over half the file was blacked out."

Hiei waited for more explanation, but it never came. Kurama was typically quite talkative—too much, at least in Hiei's opinion. Yet despite this he let the quietness between them linger.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Quite," Kurama reaffirmed. "From what I've gathered, Hotaru holds little sway over either of the two gods, and with it stated so plainly I see no reason not to believe it."

That was enough for him. He jumped down from the tree branch, feeling far more relieved than he had been previously. He was free to do as he wished without fear of consequence. He looked to his teammate with a mixed expression. He thought to somehow show his gratitude for what he had done, but found vocalizing it awkward and irritating.

"See you in a few days then," he finally managed. He then turned to leave. The tournament would begin in less than a week and Hiei had no intention of wasting his remaining freedom gossiping about what else Kurama had found.

However, before he could get far, he was stopped. "It may still be a good idea to follow her advice," Kurama called.

"I'll see what I can do."

"This tournament will be difficult enough. Should you succumb to its power, then—"

"—Then you'll have to fight on your own," Hiei stated with a sideways glance. "Not my problem."

Kurama looked disappointed, but Hiei knew he was playing it up. He was trying to guilt trip him, as if such a pathetic tactic would actually work.

"If we hope to survive this, we have to work as a team," he pleaded. What a joke that was, as if Kurama were one to speak of comradeship. True, the man had worked with others frequently in his past life, but there also seemed to be a common theme of all his previous partners ending up dead. He probably knew less about 'working as a team' than Hiei did. "No one has ever survived its use, Hiei. All others who have possess the Jagan have perished once they attempted the Jao Ensatsu Kokuryuuha. The statistics are not in your favor."

"I've faced worse."

"You shouldn't be too confident."

He cringed at the warning. "As if you're one to talk."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're getting at," Kurama remarked with a smile. Playing innocent once again—his favorite trick.

Hiei wasn't going to fall for it, however. Kurama had no right to tell him what to do when he was being such a fool himself.

"You may claim you did this for my benefit, but I know better," Hiei began angrily. "And whatever game you intend on playing, I suggest you reconsider."

"I'm not playing any games, Hiei."

"You think I'm stupid enough to believe that?" he snapped.

Hotaru would not take well to knowing she had been spied on, were she to find out. And she would find out—Hiei was certain of that. Already Kurama had pissed her off with his little 'trick' two months back, and despite this fact he seemed to be making no attempt to distance himself from her. He wasn't just walking into the belly of the beast—he was there, prodding and poking around in order to illicit a reaction. Hiei was by no means afraid of the girl, but _he_ at least had the sense to avoid making her angry on purpose.

"Do not underestimate her."

"When have I ever underestimated anyone?"

"You do it all the time," Hiei spat back, making Kurama laugh yet again.

"Perhaps you're right."

"You should stop."

"I think I'll be fine."

"Hn." Hiei grunted, giving him a hard stare. "You're really stupid, you know that?"

Kurama grinned—that sadistic, cocky grin he was so wont to throw around. "Don't tell me you're worried about me?"

"Don't kid yourself."

"Please consider avoiding that technique."

"Like I said, I'll see what I can do."

Then, he walked away, leaving the boy to the shadows.

Hiei had gotten what he wanted—Yukina would be immigrating as planned, and that was all that mattered. Hiei's warning had been more than enough to repay the favor, but if Kurama wouldn't listen, he didn't intend to try and make him. It would be the fox's own fault when his poor choices caught up to him.

**Hotaru**

She had been hanging around her apartment since yesterday afternoon. Unsure of what to do, she had drunk herself into a stupor last night on wine 'borrowed' from Inari's cellar and awoke the next morning on the floor. Not that she didn't have a bed to sleep in—she did. But it was hot and she had apparently found the floor far more comfortable. Even now a few hours after waking she found it to be the best spot the house and laid flat with her limbs extended in all directions.

She couldn't use the air conditioning, as her electricity had been shut off a month ago. It didn't bother her much, as she had been staying with Inari ever since she ran out of money two months ago. However, ever since the incident yesterday she had found herself wanting to be alone, even if it meant sitting in darkness and stewing in the summer heat.

Yesterday had not gone well. Though she was fairly confident she had achieved her goal, and that was really all that was important, the unpleasantness from the encounter hung with her still. Despite what she may have told Inari repeatedly over the past few months, she really was beginning to enjoy those little training sessions. Kuwabara had proven to be far better company than she had expected, and though the fox's presence was always a dark cloud hanging over their good time, she was even beginning to find _him_ tolerable. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than she had assumed it would be.

But now that was over. She had put a target on her back once again, and any pretense of camaraderie she had begun to build up was likely dissolved the moment she mentioned Yukina's name. Of course, it's not like she wasn't used to being a target—this was how she had always done things.

But it had never been quite as bothersome as it was this time.

_"You could learn something from them."_

She had thought over those words more than she cared to admit since Genkai had spoken them a month ago. She still wasn't entirely sure what the old woman had meant, but she couldn't help but think that if she _did_ she might have been able to avoid such an unpleasant conversation.

"Hotaru!" came the call as her front door opened.

She sat up from the floor to spy down the hallway. Inari strode through the small space into the kitchen quickly, carrying with him a few plastic bags.

"What are you doing here?" she asked tiredly. She really didn't feel like talking to anyone.

He didn't seem to pick up on her tone. Either that, or he was ignoring it. "I brought you groceries."

"Why?"

"I'm going out of town until the tournament."

"So? I can just let myself in if I need something."

"I've brought you these things precisely so you _don't _do that."

"Heh, you're still mad?" she asked with a nervous smile. A month ago when the god had ventured to Taipei to deal with a pork-related crisis she had helped herself to a few of his more expensive bottles of sake. He had been rather livid when he returned, and judging by the look he gave her in response, he still was. She rose from the floor to meet him, laughing at the angry expression. "Well, you maybe should have just brought me some cash. I can't keep all that food here—my fridge isn't even working."

He looked at her incredulously, his piercing blue eyes filled with an angry sort of disappointment. "Why isn't it working?"

He really was so motherly it was almost gross. "My electricity's been shut off."

"What? Why?"

"I told you, didn't I? I'm out of cash."

"Well you didn't tell me you couldn't pay your bills," he snapped, setting the bags on the counter. He sighed, running a hand across the side of his head to smooth down a stray hair that had wandered from his tight topknot. "I'll call the company and get them to turn it back on."

"You can do that?"

"Of course I can," he replied dismissively. "Though I'd rather not. Really, you're over five hundred years old but you're less responsible than most children."

"Maybe it's because you've spoiled me," she joked with a wide and cheesy smile. She sat down at the table and Inari began to remove the contents of the bag. As he did, her smile began to slowly die.

Laid across the table was a collection of her least favorite food items in history: spinach, mushrooms, tofu, eggplant, and about twenty small boxes of natto.

"Are you serious?"

"You need to eat better," he replied sternly. "I don't want you dying from something stupid like scurvy."

"Still though, this just seems cruel," she pouted.

"It's for your own good."

"Whatever," she mumbled, looking away dejected. She wasn't in the mood to talk at all, much less about her eating habits.

"Oh stop whining," Inari snapped at her, drawing her attention again. They had a brief stare down before Inari finally smiled broadly. "Besides, I'm not _that_ mean."

Her face instantly lit up as he withdrew from his suit jacket two small bottles of vodka. "I always said you're the best friend a girl could ask for," she cooed, accepting the bottles gratefully. They even looked somewhat expensive.

"I really am," Inari admitted proudly before sitting across from her. Once he was seated, he reached across the table for a bottle, opening it and taking a quick swig, then cringing at the taste.

"Hey, what are you—"

"—Shut up. I need this," he replied, taking yet another shot.

"Why?"

"Because I know you're about to tell me something I don't want to hear."

"What do you mean?"

"What happened with Hiei?"

"Oh…" She bit her lip, searching for the right words before deciding to make it simple. "Everything worked out fine."

"Right."

"It did!"

"Okay, what worked out fine?"

She bit her lip again and looked away. She had avoided telling Inari what it was she was intending to do once she found the small demon, as she knew he'd just tell her it was a stupid plan. He always said that about her plans. Of course, her plans always worked so she usually didn't mind his comments. This time, however, she was beginning to think she might agree with him.

"What did you do?" he asked again, this time more firmly.

"Nothing _bad_, exactly…"

"Just tell me. I really don't have time for this."

"Well…"

"Hotaru."

"Um…"

"Hotaru!"

"Okay, okay!" She shied away, averting her gaze and mumbling under her breath. "I maybe… _kind of_… threatened him?"

"Are you kidding me?!" he snapped. "What the hell possessed you to do that!?"

"It was just a little bit!"

"A 'little bit' of a threat is still a threat!"

"I know! I know!" she shot back defensively. "I tried to be nice at first but he wouldn't listen and just kept being this big dick about everything and—"

"—What did you say?"

"Like I said, it wasn't anything _too_ bad, just…" He stared her down and she quickly cracked under the pressure. "… I told him that if he didn't cooperate I'd stop Yukina from immigrating."

"Unbelievable." Inari stood suddenly, pressing a few fingers to his temple to rub out a rising headache. She really did seem to be causing quite a lot of headaches lately…

"It's not as bad as you think," she pleaded weakly as the god began to pace back and forth across the kitchen.

"Not as bad as I think?" he repeated angrily. "It's probably _worse_ than I think."

"It really isn't!"

"Why would you say something like that?" he demanded. "Interfering with immigration is the one thing you can't _actually_ do!"

"But it's the only thing he'd listen to!" she defended. "Trust me, Hiei would do anything for his sister. It's the only way I got him to agree to serve parole! It's the only way I managed to get him into Ningenkai at all!"

"Yes, I realize that but there's only so long you can keep using her to control the boy."

"It's effective."

"It's _stupid_," he stated sternly. "It's especially stupid if it's a threat you can't even go through with."

"It doesn't matter if I can't go through with the threat. I won't _need_ to," she explained. "Hiei won't risk it. Not even Kurama could convince him to take that chance."

His pacing stopped and he looked at her with upmost seriousness. "Since when is Kurama a part of this?"

"I didn't say that—"

"—He knows about your little threat, doesn't he?"

"I mean… probably."

"Probably?"

"I mean, he was there when I did it so—"

"—Are you a fucking idiot?" Inari snapped, slamming a hand down on the table and looking at her wide eyed. "If the fox wants to sniff out your lie, he will. And seeing as how he's taken to you so far I'm willing to bet he wants to, if for no other reason than to watch you burn."

"I think you're overestimating him a bit. Anything regarding me and my benefits is highly guarded information."

"Guarded at a palace which he frequents _daily_," Inari snarled back.

"Still though," Hotaru shrugged. "Not even _Koenma_ is granted access to that stuff."

"Kurama doesn't need to be _granted_ anything. He'll just take it."

"Like I said, you're overestimating him. He's not as smart as he acts."

"This is really unbelievable," Inari sighed again, resuming his pacing at quicker and more frantic speed. "One little victory and suddenly you're treating him like he's harmless."

"I'm not! I just don't get why you're freaking out so much," Hotaru said dismissively. Truthfully, she wished he'd stop—he was starting to stress her out as well, and she had already stressed enough about it.

Inari sighed in an attempt to relax himself before turning to Hotaru again. "Let's just say this plan of yours works—"

"—it _will_ work."

"How exactly do you intend to deal with those two?"

"It's not like they'd try to hurt me—"

"—_Of course_, they'll try to hurt you," Inari groaned in frustration. "What's stopping them?"

"They're sentimental," Hotaru explained further. "If Hiei kills me, he'll be put to death, and he's obviously not willing to risk that. If he didn't kill fucking _Tarukane_, why would he kill me? It's not like I tortured the girl, I just threatened to stall her papers."

"And Kurama?"

"Kurama has his weird… mom thing, or whatever. You saw it yourself—he's obsessed with the woman."

"He stole something to save her life. For the king of thieves that isn't exactly a sacrifice."

"He almost killed himself trying to save her."

"Yes, but I highly doubt that after his last escape he's as afraid to die as you or I would be."

"Still though, I think it says something."

"Does it really?" Inari asked rhetorically, before suddenly seeming to be struck by something. He paused and considered the notion carefully before asking, "Do you really think he cares about her?"

"I'd say so—at least, in his own weird, crazy way," Hotaru insisted. "And besides, he gives as much of a shit about Yukina as I do. Even if I fed the girl to a pack of wild dogs, I doubt he'd lift a finger to try and stop me. You know how he is."

Even though she had long known these facts to be true, just saying them out loud to someone else served as a pleasant reminder of their validity and she found herself calming down. She'd be okay. Inari, however, was silent and when she glanced over at him she found the god seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey, are you even listening?" she demanded, slamming her hand down on the table to wake him from his reverie.

He snapped out of his thoughts and smiled at her. "Yes, I think you may be right."

"I know I'm right."

"Of course," he placated. "But even so, you should be more careful. If you really insist on looking after this stupid little halfling boy, you would do well to not piss off his friends."

"Yea, I know," Hotaru replied softly. Truly, he had a point. Even if most of her interactions involved a certain level of animosity between her and whomever she was dealing with, the situation with Yusuke was markedly different. It was, apparently, a much longer operation than most, and one that was becoming infinitely more complex. Still though—it wasn't as if all this mess had been _her_ fault.

"And please, if you insist on doing things how you always do, at least be wary of the fox," Inari continued, as if he had read her thoughts directly. "You really shouldn't underestimate him."

"When have I ever underestimated anyone?"

"You do it all the time."

Considering the situation she was in, the god was probably right. Ever since Kurama had become involved, she had been getting fucked over left and right. And, truth be told, he was more intimidating that she cared to admit. However, just because he intimidated her didn't mean she was about to go tip-toeing around him, nor was she going to allow him to push her around.

Inari gave her a stern look before sighing and accepting that she wasn't going to take his warning all that seriously. "I should get going before I'm late. Don't do anything until the tournament, alright? Just stay here and eat your fucking vegetables."

"Will do, boss," she laughed back with a salute before giving him a playful wink. "I wouldn't want you to worry about me, after all."

"Right. As if I don't worry constantly."

"That's so sweet."

"Go fuck yourself."

**Keiko**

She stood at the doorstep, a bouquet of white lilies in her hands, and waited for someone to answer. Her face was dripping with sweat, as she was standing in an all-black dress in the middle of the summer heat, but she wasn't going to complain. At least not in front of Shizuru and Kuwabara.

The rumor had spread throughout the school rather quickly regarding Kuwabara's call to the office the other day. Apparently, his mother had gotten into some terrible car accident and passed away. Keiko wasn't one to believe in rumors, but Kuwabara had been absent today and she took that as a sign that it was true. She felt a bit strange going over to their house to express her condolences when she hadn't been invited, and she wasn't too keen on the idea of telling the two that the entire school was gossiping about their personal matters, but they were her friends and she couldn't help herself. They would need her support in this difficult time.

Keiko couldn't even imagine what it would be like to lose a parent. Her and mother were so close, after all, just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine. But she tried not to dwell on that fact—not only was it unnecessary to worry about such things, but it detracted from the importance of her visit. She was here to help the Kuwabara family, not ponder over her own hypothetical pain.

After a few minutes of standing in the sun, the door finally opened. It was Noriyuki Kuwabara, the father of the family. She had only met him once before, but was surprised once again with how tall he was—even taller than his children—and how much he resembled his son. Even more surprising was the fact that he seemed to be in a perfectly fine mood.

_He must be trying to stay strong for his kids,_ Keiko thought sadly.

"Oh hey, you're Kazuma's friend, right? Keiko Yukimura?" She nodded solemnly and he grinned proudly in response. "I never forget a face!"

"How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Been better."

_That's… certainly an understatement._

"I'm sorry to tell you, but Kazuma isn't here right now."

"Oh… I'm sorry, I probably should have called."

"No, no, there's no need," he replied kindly. "You can always come to us if you need someone to talk to."

"That's very kind of you to say, but you don't need to go out of your way to—"

"No, please! Come in!"

She hesitated, a bit taken aback by how upbeat he seemed to be, but didn't refuse the offer. She had come to help, and even if he was holding up there was no telling how Shizuru and Kuwabara were handling the affair. She bowed and removed her shoes at the doorway before being ushered into the living room.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, um. Yes, thank you."

He gave her a sad smile before disappearing into the kitchen. She looked around—everything seemed quite normal inside the house. She spied their _butsudan_ in the corner. A few incense burned before a portrait of a young woman. Keiko approached the altar, offering her flowers and examining the picture. _She's beautiful,_ she thought sadly, noting that the woman looked quite similar to Shizuru—light of hair and long of face, with a similar strong gaze.

A few minutes later Noriyuki returned and behind him was Shizuru holding a tray with three cups of iced barley tea. She set them on the table and sat close to Keiko while Noriyuki sat opposite them.

"Hey, girl. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, um… yes. I just… I heard, and…" There really was no nice way to say it. _Kids at school are saying your mother's dead. _

Shizuru suddenly wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close and petting her hair. "It's alright," she said softly. "If it's too difficult, you don't need to talk about it."

_How can you say that? _Keiko thought she was going to cry. Here she was, in the Kuwabara's living room, uninvited and apparently unneeded. They really were a strong family.

Still, she had come to offer her support, not to force them to dote on her, and pulled herself back up. "I'll be okay, really. I just… I feel a bit bad, barging in and all."

"Like I said, you're always welcome," Noriyuki remarked with a smile. "You're a friend of the family, after all."

_And yet I never even met her... _Keiko had only been to the Kuwabara's once before—when they had taken in Yusuke's body after the fire. She had been so worried about him that she hadn't even thought to introduce herself properly, and now she found herself regretting that she had missed her chance to formally meet a person who was, judging by the family she left behind, an amazing woman.

"Well don't force yourself," Shizuru said sweetly. "Though, I need you to tell me one thing…"

"What is it?"

Shizuru's eyes darkened and her expression turned serious. "It's not Yusuke, is it?"

"Um… what do you mean?"

Shizuru seemed to struggle for the right words, and her father spoke in her place. "She means the flowers. Are they—wait, where did your flowers go?" He seemed a bit confused, until he spotted the large bouquet by the altar and suddenly began laughing. "Well shit. Seems like I completely misread that."

Shizuru spotted them too, then turned to her father with an irritated glare. "You can't be serious, Dad."

"What? When you see a girl dressed in all black and carrying white lilies that usually means it's for a funeral."

Shizuru laughed, shaking her head disappointedly at her father. "Still though."

"They are for the funeral," Keiko corrected quickly, confused but eager to show that it wasn't just a coincidence. "I brought them for your wife."

"Oh I'm not saying it's not appreciated," Noriyuki laughed. "But please, don't feel that you need to bring flowers every time you visit just because she's passed on."

Keiko was shocked. Though he may have just been trying to be polite, and he was clearly just trying to stay strong for his children, his cavalier attitude was disturbing. She must be reading him wrong.

"I just felt it was appropriate for the situation…"

"Really, we appreciate it," Noriyuki continued with a grin. "But we're fine now. You can't spend your whole life mourning those who've passed on."

This situation was officially messed up.

Keiko wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't known exactly how the Kuwabara family would be dealing with the recent tragedy, but she had hardly expected this.

"Maybe I should go…"

"No, Keiko, really don't worry about it," Shizuru laughed. "My dad can be a bit straightforward sometimes."

_A bit? _

"Stay. I could use a bit of girl time."

Keiko felt uncomfortable, but didn't object. Noriyuki, who was blushing a bit by now, took this opportunity to bow out. "I'll leave you girls to it, then."

Once he had left Keiko found herself feeling a lot more comfortable and forced herself to move on from the awkward encounter. Even if Mr. Kuwabara didn't care, Shizuru must have. Keiko knew her well enough to know she wouldn't be so heartless about what had happened.

"I probably should have called."

Shizuru lit up a cigarette and smiled. "It's fine, really. Like my dad said, you're a family friend."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You don't need to do anything. Just relax, girl."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Shizuru cocked an eyebrow, exhaling a large puff of smoke. "Talk about what?"

"Well… about your mom."

She laughed. "You're really worrying too much about this."

"But she was your mother… surely you must be—"

"—It was a long time ago, Keiko," Shizuru replied sadly.

Keiko looked away, unsure of how to deal with this. A day was certainly _not _a long time, and the family's attitude was thoroughly upsetting. Then it dawned on her.

"So, she didn't get in an accident yesterday?"

Shizuru looked confused. "No, she died when I was in junior high. Who told you that?"

"They were talking about it at school. And with Kuwabara being absent today, I just thought…"

"Well that certainly explains a lot," Shizuru laughed. "But no, we're fine. Kuwabara's just off at a tournament."

"A tournament?"

"Yea, for soccer."

Keiko was a bit surprised. Kuwabara was certainly the athletic type, and probably would have done well at organized sports, but with his grades she doubted he was allowed to participate in extracurricular activities. Plus, he hadn't mentioned anything about joining the team to her.

"Pretty crazy right?" Shizuru chuckled. "I had the same reaction, but he joined about two months ago and has been practicing constantly."

_Wow, two months and he never told me?_ Keiko thought to herself, before she recognized how coincidental it all was. Almost _too _coincidental.

"Are you sure he joined two months ago?"

"Yea, and he's been practicing every day after school ever since."

"Um… Shizuru…"

"What?"

"The sports teams practice in the morning," Keiko said quietly.

Shizuru shrugged. "Maybe it's intramural?"

"Maybe…" It was possible, but Keiko still didn't buy it. She had thought the boy had been acting strange, but he was always so honest and straightforward. She hadn't imagined he'd be caught up in whatever it was that Yusuke was doing, but it just seemed too strange.

Shizuru picked up on her doubt quickly. "Do you think he lied about it?"

"Well, he might have," Keiko didn't want to accuse the boy of anything. "It was about two months ago that Yusuke disappeared."

"He disappeared!?"

"His mom didn't seem worried, but she's never worried. I asked Kuwabara about it a lot, but he always said he didn't know anything…"

She was afraid to finish the sentence, for fear of insulting Shizuru, but luckily the girl had gotten her meaning, and seemed equally upset by it. "They're up to something."

"You think so, too?"

"Heh, I should have known it was too good to be true," the older girl sighed with a puff of smoke. "My baby brother never does what's good for him."

"Do you think they're in trouble?"

"I don't know." She snuffed out her cigarette before turning to Keiko, a determined grin on her face. "But I think there's someone who does."

**Kurama**

Kurama sat on one end of the table with Shiori opposite him. She had a pen and paper out and had been making a list of all the things he was to bring on his trip.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"I'll be fine. They've arranged rooms for us on the campus, so there's no need to worry."

"Oh but Tokyo is such a large city..."

She was quite obviously worried, but thankfully not excessively so. She had always allowed Kurama a certain level of autonomy, more than likely because he had always demonstrated a level of responsibility above that of his peers. However, he also suspected some of it she did just to appease him—he had always been so violently opposed to coddling when he was "young", unable to accept her kindness for what it was. She had therefore given him quite a bit of freedom even then, assuming him to merely be hopelessly rebellious.

He felt guilty about it, when he thought it over, but chose to ignore his conscious. He had to leave, there was no question about that. At the very least, his bad behavior back then was serving a purpose now.

He had told her he was invited on an exclusive field trip to the University of Tokyo—the most prestigious university in all of Japan. He claimed it was sponsored by the university itself, and that he'd be the only member of his class to attend. It wasn't a fantastic lie, but he didn't want to leave any lose threads. This way she wouldn't be tempted to bring it up around the other parents, for fear of bragging, and he had given the school the same excuse to avoid any awkward PTA meetings in the future.

"We'll be at the campus the entire time," Kurama explained. "The schedule is quite full."

"It sure is," she remarked, recalling the extensive list of activities she had read through a few nights prior. He had printed out fake pamphlets, itineraries, and badges, all of which he had sealed in a falsely watermarked envelope and mailed to his own home nearly a month ago. He had even called the house, acting under the guise of a man named Shutoku Yamamura, to ask for her permission.

It was certainly overkill, but Kurama didn't want to leave anything to chance.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't worry too much then," she said softly, almost appearing a bit sad. She looked up at him, small tears forming in the corners of her eyes though she tried to hold them back. "I guess it just feels like I'm actually sending you off to college."

He smiled softly and grabbed her hand, holding it lightly in his own in an attempt to placate her. "That's not for quite some time, mother."

"Oh, I know, I'm just being silly," she admitted, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. She sniffed back the tears, and pushed herself forward, resuming her list-making. "Are there any books you want to bring?"

"I figured I would bring _Ugetsu Monogatari_, just for a bit of light reading."

"That's hardly light reading for a boy your age," Shiori laughed lightly, quite obviously proud he was capable of reading such a complicated text. "No wonder you were picked for this program."

"I never would have even been considered if I didn't go Meiou, and I have you to thank for that," he replied with a smile. Even if the entire program was a lie, there was no reason he couldn't use the opportunity to give her a compliment.

Her dedication to him, even now, was sometimes awe inspiring. After a particular incident in which she harmed herself trying to protect him, he had allowed himself to open up just ever so slightly to her kindness. Yet her devotion had quickly flooded through the small opening, forcing its way in and never allowing itself to leave. It was only a few months after the incident that he had found himself playing the part of a dutiful son—not out of a desire to keep his cover, but out of genuine gratitude.

The transition had been strange at first. For the first time in his long life, he had found himself unsure of how to act. One would assume that such things would come naturally, but to Kurama they had only come after much practice and careful consideration. He had never known the power of a mother's love.

He had once had a mother—all creatures did. But he had no memories of her. He was born a normal fox—wandering Ningenkai on all fours back during its darker days—feeding off of rabbits and hiding in holes. It was the way all foxes began. When it came down to it, he was nothing but an animal. And like most animals, he had reached adulthood quickly and been sent from the nest to fend for himself. As the years went on, his thoughts grew more complex and, after 100 years had passed, he found himself developing powerful capabilities. He left his natural life behind, in favor of a more exciting one among humans and demons.

He never allowed himself to get bored – or, as he thought of it then, 'complacent'. He continually sought out the rarest and most highly guarded items in the three worlds, forming alliances with like-minded individuals as he went and breaking those alliances just as easily as he broke wards. Truthfully, he always found himself a bit bored with the items themselves and quickly sold them on to the highest bidder, or gave them to whomever he was with at the time. It wasn't about the treasure—it was about the challenge.

His plans grew more and more complex as he went—no longer did it suffice to merely force his way in and take what he wished. He wanted to do things differently, in a more sophisticated fashion. He wanted not only to take what he wished for, but he wanted to play with whomever he was taking from. He had always been exceptional when it came to matters of combat or cunning, and as such he found himself seeking a level of perfection far above that of the common thief. Though he earned his name as King of Thieves based on the rarity of the items he stole, he had earned his _reputation_ based on the elegance with which he took them.

And now, even he found it strange to see himself sitting a kitchen, fussing over what socks to bring.

"Should I give you some extra money for the trip? In case you want to buy souvenirs or something," his mother asked.

Though he didn't need it – he had already purchased a University of Tokyo sweatshirt to give to her upon his return—he accepted. No normal human boy would refuse an offer of extra cash. "I won't need much."

"Then I'll stop by the ATM tomorrow," she explained happily, writing out yet another errand on her list. She seemed to love spoiling him. "What about toiletries? I can pick you up some travel sizes at the pharmacy."

"I still have some left from my last trip."

"Are you sure it'll be enough?"

"It should be plenty. I'll only be gone a week."

A week. One week. No matter what, he had to return in one week. If he didn't, he didn't even want to imagine how she would react. She'd become worried, then she'd become scared, and when the police would fail to bring her any news, declaring Shuuichi Minamino a missing child, she'd become grief stricken.

_How did I manage to be so foolish?_ He thought sadly, recalling his rash actions only a few months prior. He hadn't even considered the repercussions at the time—something he never did. He always planned ahead. He had practiced it for years and never left anything to chance, never left anything unexamined and unaccounted for. But at that time, the most crucial time of all, he had let that one simple fact slip. _She would have been devastated._

He truly owed Yusuke more than the boy new—more than even Kurama cared to admit openly. Sometimes, he thought that it perhaps hadn't been poor planning. Perhaps it had just been that, once again, his demonic history was showing itself. He had projected his own coldness onto the woman, assuming that if she lived she'd be happy, rather than broken. And now he found himself armed with that knowledge and wishing he had never realized such things. He wasn't that afraid of the tournament—the competitors, even of Team Toguro, were weak compared to what he had faced before. However, unlike before where he fought exclusively for himself, he now had his teammates to protect, and he had her.

"You should bring an umbrella. I hear Tokyo weather is unpredictable."

"I have a rain jacket. It'll be easier to carry."

"I suppose that's true, but what about your books?"

"I'll just have to be careful, I suppose."

He really was more reckless than she knew. He never should have attempted to play this game. He was out of practice, and now the four of them had been forced into a corner. It was his fault, even if he didn't want to admit it. He still tried to convince himself that he had interfered out of concern for Hiei and his sister, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe such things. He had done it because he could—because he wanted to play his games. The fact that now, facing a deadly and savage tournament, he found himself excited rather than appalled was just further proof of this.

He had his human life to protect, and such reckless behavior would undoubtedly lead him to further ruin, if indeed he hadn't already cursed himself by entrenching himself in otherworldly matters. He should have just completed his parole as ordered—he was only to serve a few years, after all. He didn't have to become so involved. If he had just served as asked, he would have been able to go back to how things were. Perhaps if he had acted accordingly, then he could sit at this table earnestly and hold a true conversation with Shiori. One not based solely on lies.

He lied to her far too frequently.

And as he grew more and more intertwined with the fates of his companions and that of Reikai, the lies had only increased. He hated lying to her. The woman had done so much for him, she deserved the truth. Not only about where he was going or who he was with, but about _him_. About what he was, and what he had done to her. The woman was kind enough, and their bond strong enough, that she'd be able to see past his transgressions and forgive him. He was sure of it.

Yet something stopped him—he was concerned for her. She'd undoubtedly be unable to fully comprehend the situation, and would be scared witless if she knew her son was about to attend something as wicked as the Ankoku Tournamet. He couldn't bear to see her suffer like that, so he held his tongue and let the lies continue. He couldn't tell her. Not yet, and not like this.

He would tell her someday. Somewhere quiet, somewhere safe, and at a time without the looming possibility of his death.

Though when such a time would come was beginning to seem questionable. Try as he might, he found himself falling into old habits. The presence of otherworldly beings, such as those from Reikai, Hiei, and particularly Hotaru, made him almost forget what he was truly living for. He could only imagine how much further a kill-or-be-killed competition would drive him into his old ways. He had to resist it—he had to acknowledge his weakness and confront it.

He was not who he once was. There was no question about it—Youko had died that night in the woods, struck down by the SDF. Now, he worked for the very organization which had ended his life and lived in the world he had once found so trivial. He had a mother and friends who cared for him, and he cared for them in return. Those were all things that, were he still truly Youko Kurama, would have disgusted him. He had changed, and he had no intention of changing back.

He needed to be careful. Of himself most of all, but also of the others. He owed Yusuke his gratitude, but he wouldn't sacrifice his new life to repay that debt. And he owed Hiei his loyalty, but he wouldn't sacrifice who he had become to maintain that alliance. And Hotaru…

He would need to make sure she wasn't a problem again.

He would not allow her and the frustration she caused him to drag him back down to what he once was. She was like him, or rather, what he used to be- ruthless and self-indulgent. And as tempting as it may have been to challenge her—as satisfying as it was to win over her, as if defeating the ghost of his own past—he had to resist that urge, as it was the most dangerous one of all.

Hiei had been right, though Kurama hadn't wanted to admit it. The girl was smarter than he thought and a far greater threat than he had ever realized. It would not do to underestimate her.

"Shuuichi? Are you alright?"

He looked up to find his mother staring worriedly at him. Apparently, he had gotten lost in his own train of thought. Such things were becoming far too common place.

"I'm fine," he said with a smile. "I was just going over the itinerary again. I don't want to forget anything."

"That's why I make lists," she explained, pushing the pad over to him to show how much she'd put down while he was preoccupied. "It's too hard to keep all those things straight in your head. It helps to have it on paper."

"Well thank you for writing it all down."

"You're welcome," she replied sweetly, obviously touched by his gratitude. "Though I suppose this might have been a bit unnecessary."

"What do you mean?"

"You're just such a responsible young man, after all," Shiori remarked with a laugh. "If I know my son, then I know this—you always plan for everything."

* * *

Jao Ensatsu Kokuryuuha - 邪王炎殺黒龍波 - translated in the English version as the 'Dragon of the Darkness Flame,' though a more literal translation would be, 'Wicked King's Killing, Blazing Black Dragon Wave.' Obviously this doesn't really roll off the tongue very well, though.

Natto – 納豆 – fermented soy beans. It's a common breakfast food in Japan and said to be very good for you, but it has a strong smell and taste, and sticky, slimy texture. I eat it, but it's taken me like… months to force myself to get a taste for it.

Butsudan - 仏壇 - a Buddhist altar found in most Japanese homes. It's sort of small alcove in which people burn incense or hang pictures of deceased family members. Even if no one is deceased, families still have them.

Also, note: Youko -妖狐 – means spirit fox. It is not a first name, but rather a type of creature and, in some capacities, a title. That's why you'll find it capitalized, like a proper noun, and lowercase as well throughout the text.


	9. Chapter 9: The Beaten Wolf

**Hotaru**

_One Hundred and Ten Years Ago_

The tapping of her shoes echoed loudly as she followed the rather frightening looking ogre down a dark, grand hallway. The entirety of it was lit by oil lamps and lacked any sort of ornateness or grandiosity, as did most of the palace from what she could see. It wasn't in some sort of minimalist style like Inari's palace was either—rather it seemed to be simplistic for efficiency's sake. It hardly seemed like a palace at all, save for the huge size of the hall.

The ogre in front of her lead her without a word, a deep scowl set in his face, though she imagined he always looked like that. Ogres weren't exactly known for being beautiful creatures. She made no attempt to speak to him, instead following along silently and smiling to herself. After all, this was certainly something to be excited about—it wasn't every day a girl like Hotaru was granted the presence of the King of the Afterlife.

They neared a large set of heavy doors and she was ushered inside the throne room. The ogre then closed the heavy doors behind her. Hotaru didn't mind, however, and walked out into the center of the large room with confidence. As she did, she looked over the King, who was sitting in his throne at the opposite end. Truth be told, he looked more like a general than a king, but from what she had heard of Reikai and their operations, this only seemed appropriate.

"Welcome to my palace," came the booming voice. "Hotaru, the demonic informant."

"I prefer the term _mediator_," she corrected with a smile. "And I'm not a demon, per se."

"A matter of semantics."

"A matter of _pride_, my King." Her smile never faded, and neither did the animosity apparent in the King's expression. Nevertheless, she continued unperturbed by his angry demeanor. "They weren't lying. You sure are a big guy."

She noticed his large eyebrow twitch and knew she had struck a nerve. Obviously, he wasn't used to being spoken to so casually.

"Thank you for inviting me," she continued in a slightly more polite tone.

"I felt it was important to meet in person," he spoke in response. Even his voice was large, echoing through the room despite the fact that he wasn't trying to yell.

"I thought the same. It's better to discuss things like this face-to-face… or… face-to-foot, I suppose." She laughed again, making no attempt to stifle herself. "You really are huge."

"I think you may be mistaken," Enma began in response. "This is not a discussion. This is a warning."

"A warning?"

"I have decided to be benevolent. Discontinue this tournament of yours and neither you nor your men shall face punishment."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you will suffer severe consequences," Enma replied, his tone almost excessively threatening.

"Surely you wouldn't have called me here just for that."

"You have seen my palace, you have seen my men, and you have seen me. If this does not provide enough evidence that my warning should be taken seriously, then I would be happy to demonstrate my power."

"There's no need," she replied, all the while smiling. "I take your warning seriously. Truly, I do. However…" She approached further. "Pardon me for saying, but I think you may be looking at this from the wrong perspective."

"Demons are not allowed within the realm of Ningenkai. Furthermore, this sort of savage entertainment is detrimental to the peace of the realm as a whole. There is no other way to look at it."

"Perhaps it helps them blow off steam?"

"It attracts violent crowds and encourages demons to seek out Ningenkai," he protested sternly. "With the rate at which this tournament has grown, surely you cannot deny this fact."

It was true—it had only been a little over forty years, but attendance had already doubled since Hotaru won ownership. It had been slow when she first began, but quickly interest among the demon classes had peaked, particularly after she had upped the stakes. After Hotaru had tricked Inari into signing a contract to be the sponsor of the prize they had been able to grant wishes rather than lone monetary sums. For individuals such as demons, who barely understood the value of a dollar much less basic economics, this was a far more desirable reward. And as competitors flooded in, the competition became more intense and, in turn, the audience had grown.

Hotaru knew it was only a matter of time until Reikai sought to intervene—before, the Ankoku Tournament had been but a blip in their radar, but now it was slowly growing into one of the largest, if not _the_ largest underground events in Ningenkai.

"I won't try to deny that," Hotaru conceded. "But once again, I think you're looking at this from the wrong perspective."

"I am King of Reikai," he bellowed in response. "It is only my perspective that matters here."

"Of course! Of course!," she laughed back. "But consider it this way: _yes_, the tournament draws very strong demonic competitors, but most of those competitors end up dead by the time we reach the final round. If you think about it, we're really doing you a service."

"The threat this competition poses far outweighs that, however," he retorted. "Your system of wish granting is dangerous, and one I cannot allow. It is only a matter of time until one of your competitor's wishes drives Ningenkai into chaos."

"Well, that's true," she admitted.

"For you to think I would allow such a system to go unchecked is absurd."

"Again, true," she laughed. "However, there _are_ ways to 'check' the system."

"And what might those be?"

"It's pretty simple, really," she began. "Inari isn't necessarily bound to fulfill the request of the winner, instead he's bound to fulfill the _approved_ request. There are rules, you know. For example, no competitor is allowed to wish for the death of me, or other committee members. Even if they stated this explicitly, it's forbidden in the rules, so Inari is, per terms of the contract, not allowed to grant it under any circumstances."

"So you've taken precautions to protect yourself but have done nothing to protect Ningenkai?" he replied with a dark laugh. "It would seem you're only serving to prove my point."

"I'll admit, it doesn't make me look very good," she said back with a smile. "But if I had made those concessions already, then I wouldn't have much to bargain with, would I?"

"Bargain?" he repeated, almost disgusted by the term. "Let me remind you once again that I am King here. One does not bargain with a King."

"I know many kings, and in my experience, they can all be made willing to compromise."

"You know _demon_ kings. It is hardly the same matter."

"Oh I think it's quite the same," she quipped back with a wide smile. "Here's my offer: I'll change the rules around to restrict what wishes can be granted. I'd say so long as it's forbidden to wish for anything that will directly lead to the death of a member of Ningenkai or Reikai, then we have all our bases covered."

"That is hardly sufficient," Enma replied. "With that competitors may still be allowed to wish for the _power_ to commit such atrocities."

"Well, to a degree, yes, but you forget that it's _Inari _who's granting these wishes. A low-level god like him can't really grant anyone power above, what… a B class? Certainly not an epic threat, I'd say."

"However, it is still a threat."

"A threat that you and your men are fully capable of dealing with. There's no reason that you can't simply take down whoever wins once the tournament is over. And if you do, it does us both a favor—we don't end up stagnating and you get simple, reliable information about the threats facing Ningenkai. Certainly it's easier to have all of your criminals in one place, showing their best for an audience. You can learn their names, their faces, and even their fighting style. The advantages of this information is quite obvious, I'd say."

"And you honestly believe demons will still sign up for your competition, should they know we're watching?"

"Actually, it'll probably just make us _more_ popular," she laughed in response. "Demons are notoriously stupid—they flock to danger like crows to a corpse."

He went silent for another moment, and she knew she was close. Not even he could deny the validity of her claim, and the relative ease with which their conversation moved was further proof that she was slowly winning him to her side. She had him—even if he didn't know it yet.

Finally he spoke, and she found it hard to contain herself. "You will provide my men with a list of all competitors, and we will be allowed full access to your grounds and your records, both financial and personal. Under these conditions, as well as those you stated previously, it may continue."

"Fantastic!" she replied happily. "Now, I assume that you're fine with me adding in a few clauses to our contract to confirm this, yes?"

"What sort of clauses?"

"Well, certainly one that forbids Reikai from shutting down the tournament. That goes without saying. However, I also think it's necessary to include one stating that me, my employees, and certainly my competitors are safe from Reikai persecution during the tournament or while fulfilling tournament duties."

He had to consider this for quite a while as well. Certainly, if he was aware of who she was, he was aware of her power. And her contract with Inari obviously proved that even gods weren't exempt from the binding effects of her written word.

Nevertheless, he eventually agreed. "They shall be free from persecution _only_ while acting on behalf of the tournament. At all other times they shall be held fully accountable for any crimes committed, yourself included."

"Naturally." She removed a piece of paper and a pen, crouching down so as to use the floor as a surface to steady her pen. "You won't regret this."

"See to it that I don't."

"Though if I may…" she began slowly, looking back up at the King with a wide smile. She noticed his brow twitch once again and her smile grew further. "I have a few more requests."

"You should consider yourself fortunate to have gotten so far," he warned with a stern tone. "Do not push your luck."

"Certainly not. I don't mean to be greedy, but I feel that if we're negotiating then there's another thing that must be made clear."

Enma's displeasure was apparent on his face, but he remained silent, which Hotaru took as a sign that it was safe to continue.

"We've been getting quite a lot of a certain request that we just aren't able to fulfill..."

"And that is?"

"Well, quite a few of our winners have requested revivals… you know, of loved ones, teammates and the like. They assume because we grant all other wishes that we're capable of this one as well, but obviously we can't do such a thing without your consent."

"Under no circumstances will I allow something like that. Take what I've given you and leave."

"Just hear me out," she replied. "I understand this is a rather large sacrifice on your part, with seemingly no benefits to speak of. And I'm afraid that as far as the tournament is concerned, I've made about as many concessions as I can. _However_… I _can_ offer you something else."

"And that would be?"

"My services, of course!" She stood now, leaving the pen and paper where they lay and offering up a winning smile. "As you've said, you already know of my reputation, and as such you should know that my cooperation could be a very valuable asset to Reikai."

"I do indeed know of your reputation," he replied, his voice thick with disapproval. "You are known to be quite treacherous."

"_Fair_ is more like it," she laughed. "When one's in a business like mine, it doesn't pay to take sides."

"Once again, you're only serving to prove my point."

"I realize the idea of working with someone like me isn't ideal," she began. "And it's true—I can't promise you absolute loyalty. What I _can_ promise you, though, is information."

"And in return you'll offer information regarding me to your demon kings."

"If you keep your secrets well-guarded, as I'm sure you do, you should have nothing to fear from me."

"Even if I were to agree, you are hardly what one would call trustworthy." Hotaru took the criticism in stride, never once losing her pleasant demeanor. The King continued. "How am I supposed to believe this information of yours?"

"I figured you might ask that," she laughed. "Truthfully, it serves no purpose for me to lie. If I lied, I'd be out of a job. I won't deny that I've been known to withhold information—that's the business of it, after all—but I certainly wouldn't _lie_."

"I'm afraid I'm not as confident as you are. Nor am I as desperate as the demons you serve," Enma explained. "I have my own network. I have no use for someone like you."

"Oh, I think you do." She moved back to her bag, withdrawing a large, heavy envelope and turned back to him. "As a show of good faith, I've brought with me a bit of precursory information. Within this folder you'll find the names, type, and relative age of the top officials of Mukuro, Yomi, and Raizen's territories. Summaries of what I know of their fighting styles and relative power levels are also included. You'll also find a map of current borders, including disputed and recently annexed land. Furthermore, I've included summaries regarding prominent leaders in the Wastes, though I doubt this information is all that relevant to you."

She expected him to go silent once again—to mull it over and then, in time, agree. However, rather than silence, the King erupted into laughter. It was a dark laughter, and somewhat menacing, especially considering its volume and the size of the man who emanated it.

"You are far less cunning than I took you for, Hotaru," he laughed, staring down at the small girl through his thick lenses. "Do you realize the position you've put yourself in?"

Finally, her smile fell.

The King continued. "You have brought me valuable information. Far more valuable than any information your little tournament could provide me, and in _writing_ nonetheless. Therefore, what reason do I have to continue with our contract?"

She struggled to find her voice, and when she did, it came out shaky and uneven. "W-well, in order to get this envelope, I'll need you to agree to take me on as an emissary."

"I am King of Reikai," he bellowed back happily. "What is to stop me from merely taking it? In regards to your tournament, your offer to me was contingent upon you remaining free to act. However with this, I am fully capable of reaping the rewards without the need to keep you alive."

Her eyes widened and her lower lip began to tremble. "You mean, you… you're going to kill me?"

"I see no reason not to. You've brought me something valuable, and have asked for something absurd in return. Rather than walk away from the deal, it seems far more sensible to merely take what you've offered and give you quick death in exchange, wouldn't you agree?"

"No!" she protested. "No, you can't do this!"

"Well, as I said… I am King and it's only my perspective that matters here."

He raised his left hand—a giant, powerful mass of bone and muscle- in preparation to strike her down where she stood. The fear was evident on her face. Staring down an angry god was hard enough, but when they moved to act it was practically bone chilling. King Enma was the most powerful god in every realm but Shinkai—no one, of any breed or race or type could match him. Even other gods were powerless in the face of that hand.

"Please…" Tears began to well up in her eyes and her whole body began to shake. His large hand tightened into a fist, his knuckles directed squarely in her direction. "Please, don't. I'm begging you," she pleaded.

The King merely laughed again in response. "You have disrespected me, little Hotaru."

"I didn't mean to—"

"-You have forgotten your place. I feel it is my duty to remind you."

"Please!" Suddenly, her knees gave out and she prostrated herself fully on the floor, her head pressed hard against the cold tile floor. Tears were flowing freely and every inch of her was trembling. "Please, I'm begging you! Have mercy on me! I meant no disrespect!"

"Your words mean nothing to me," he boomed back.

"I'll give you anything you want! Please! I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I… I thought, perhaps if I seemed confident then you would—"

"—Do whatever you asked of me?" Enma replied incredulously. "You have taken me for a fool."

"I'm sorry!" she yelled again, attempting to speak through her choking sobs. "Please, I promise I won't cross you again! I promise!"

"You feel you can promise such a thing?"

"Yes!" Then, she lost herself in another fit of uncontrollable sobbing. She waited for his energy to strike her—waited for the blackness of death—yet nothing came, and in one last attempt she looked back at him, her face tear stained and her forehead beginning to bruise. "I promise you! I promise you I won't! Just please, my King, have mercy…"

* * *

The large doors to Enma's chamber opened slowly, dragging across the tile floor, and quietly, Hotaru emerged. Outside stood the same ogre as before, and she took the opportunity to bow to him—a courtesy she had not extended upon entering the palace grounds. Her clothes were disheveled, her eyes red and puffy, and her hands were shaking. However, in those shaking hands she held a contract—she had done it. The tournament would continue, and she was to be taken on as emissary.

Silently, as before, the ogre began to lead her back through the cavernous halls of the palace. He did not look at her, did not regard her in the least. However, this time he wore a satisfied grin instead of a scowl. Apparently, he had been able to hear what had just transpired. She followed quietly behind, struggling to keep pace.

She had made a fool of herself—she had been overconfident and quite openly attempted to manipulate the King. Even after he had granted her what she asked, she was greedy, and requested more, all based around the stupid assumption that she was worthy of such a position. She had been forced to recognize her place, however, and in a fit of crying and desperate begging, he had been benevolent and granted her the final request. Now she walked, seemingly terrified—a broken young thing.

However, that was only one way to look at it.

The other way, and the way Hotaru far preferred, was to look at it as a successful execution of a tactic she liked to call "The Beaten Wolf." She begins overly confident and brash, in an attempt to make herself look stupid but important. Then, she offers her terms, making no attempt to compromise and speaking informally to further anger the man in power. Finally, when she leaves herself open to attack from the powerful man, she gives in immediately, and with fervor. By doing this she solidifies an image in the powerful man's mind that she has been 'broken in'. This creates not only a false sense of security within the man, allowing her to move and work without hindrance, but it also makes her terms seem more desirable, as whatever has been offered is no longer considered a gift in his mind, but rather a prize for his strength.

_Works every time_.

She tried her best to stifle her smile, and as she was led to the main entrance, down the grand hallways and through the busy mail rooms, she felt a great sense of excitement building up inside of her. This would be the first of many visits, as well as the first of many favors. Entrance into Reikai, as well as acceptance into its ranks, had been a long term goal of hers and finally she had it.

_I think I'm going to like this place. _

**Hotaru**

"You-_hick_- must be joking."

"You know I don't do formal dress."

"Still, though," Inari burst into a fit of laughter, while Hotaru just scowled up at him. She was draped in floor-length yellow gown, with narrow straps and a low cut. True, it was ill-fitting, and made of a cheap material, but it certainly wasn't _that_ funny.

"You're the one always telling me to act more feminine!"

"You look like Hiroshi Fujiwara!"

"Shut up," she snapped back before taking down the rest of the champagne. Inari was already on his twentieth-or-so glass of the night- the god had a bad habit of getting disgustingly drunk during the tournament, and the opening night was always particularly bad. She at first assumed he did it to get out of making a speech at the opening ceremonies, but he had long been banned from attending that event and still the heavy drinking persisted.

He snatched a fresh glass from a waiter that wandered by and turned to Hotaru, his expression suddenly serious. "Listen... you-"

"Ah, Miss Hotaru!"

They both turned to find two donors standing to their left- Mr. and Mrs. Kamakura. They were both dressed in highly sophisticated, very expensive garments and the glimmer off of Mrs. Kamakura's giant wedding ring was almost blinding.

"I must say, you've outdone yourself this year," Mr. Kamakura laughed under his heavy mustache.

"Ah... thank you," Hotaru replied with a nervous smile.

"Really, how on earth did you manage to invite those boys?" Mr. Kamakura asked. "Many of the other donors were quite worried about retribution from Reikai."

"Well-"

"Ha! _Reikai_," Inari scoffed drunkenly into his glass. "As if they'd- _hick_- as if they..."

His voice drifted away into incoherent mumbling, and Mr. Kamakura gave him a rather disapproving look. "Pleasure to see you again, Master Inari."

"Right, right."

"I trust you're as enthusiastic this year as you were last?"

"-_hick_-Naturally."

"By the way," Hotaru began, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Inari's embarrassing lack of composure. "I hear your newest venture into automotive industry has been quite successful!"

"Oh, I don't know if I'd say that," Mr. Kamakura replied with feigned modesty. Truly, Hotaru hated these sorts of conversations, and the phony politeness that came with them, but she had long learned to suck it up and force herself through them. Without the donations of people like Mr. Kamakura, the Ankoku Tournament would never have reached its current level of repute. "We have certainly been fortunate."

"Surely you can't say it's _all_ been luck," she laughed back, albeit strained. "I've heard you're quite good with your predictions."

"Oh he certainly is," the wife chimed in. "He's always so-"

"- Fucking -_hick_- daifugo..."

Now both husband and wife looked at Inari disapprovingly, and Hotaru tried her best to diffuse the situation once again. "Ah, yes, daifugo! Haha, my favorite game! We should play some time."

Mrs. Kamakura smiled back. "Ah, that sounds wond-"

"- NEVER."

"Inari-"

"- NEVER AGAIN!" the god cried, stumbling in his fervor. "Trust me... the girl is a monster." Mr. and Mrs. Kamakura looked taken aback, but Inari continued, oblivious to their discomfort. "She's never lost a game, you know," he slurred. "She acts like it's no big deal but -_hick_- it is! It's her -_hick_- secret weapon."

Hotaru tried to contain her frustration, but nevertheless it was apparent on her face. He truly was never going to let that go.

It had been a game of daifugo that had initially won Inari into service of the Ankoku Tournament. It had been a friendly game, shared over a few glasses of sake, and when they had made the bet Inari had been completely ignorant of Hotaru's motives. When she had won, as she always did, he had been forced to become the official sponsor of the tournament- the source of their power to grant wishes, as well as to enforce the rule for invitees. That had been over a hundred years ago, and _still_ he brought it up whenever he had the chance to. Apparently it had wounded his pride- a wound Hotaru felt was well deserved. The man was far too confident for his own good.

"She says-_hick_- it's _fine_, and _don't worry_ and then B-_hick_-AM!" He hung his head, practically falling over onto Hotaru. "Be careful..."

"Ah, yes," Mr. Kamakura replied with a sigh. He was as familiar with Inari's drunken behavior as Hotaru was, though he seemed to tolerate it less. "However, as I was saying, Ms. Hotaru, our business has-"

"- Trust me!" Inari cried again, now fully leaning his weight onto Hotaru. His gaze was focused on Mrs. Kamakura, who seemed to be growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute. "She -_hick_- she-"

Suddenly, he retched, and the twenty-or-so glasses of champagne reemerged in a glorious tidal wave of filth that cemented itself down and across the elegant gown of Mrs. Kamakura. The woman screamed, and her husband became equally enraged, turning on Inari with an anger that no wise man would ever dare to show a god.

"You _sir_, are entirely out of line!"

"I'm trying to -_hick_- protect you," Inari slurred back, acting as if he hadn't just washed a woman entirely in vomit.

"Ms. Hotaru, you cannot allow this kind of behavior to continue!"

"Aah..."

"Year after year this... this _mongrel_ disrespects our organization!" He shouted. The entire crowd's attention was drawn towards their little group, and Hotaru tried her best to shy away, carrying the drunken god with her. "You _must_ learn to discipline your employees!"

"_Employee_?" Inari spat back incredulously. "She works for _me_, you-_hick_- pompous.. ugh, oh no..."

"Okay, let's get you out of here." Hotaru pulled Inari away quickly, waving off the angry tirade Mr. Kamakura was on about, and guided him towards the restroom. "You are unbelievable."

"W-_hick_-what?"

"Just... ugh, please don't vomit on anyone else."

"When have I- _hick_- ever done that?"

"You literally _just_ did that."

"What?"

"Never mind." She pushed him forward till he walked through the bathroom door, and once he had she leaned against the wall and sunk down. Within minutes she could hear him retching up again. She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing out her newest tension headache. "God damn it."

"Upset?"

She looked up to find, of all people, Sakyou staring down at her. He had the Toguro brothers to his side, and next to them was another of their fighters- the young, and undeniably creepy Karasu.

"Irritated," she corrected, pulling herself up to meet them head on. "Though I'm sure you know why."

"You really should learn to relax about these sorts of things," Sakyou cooed with a heavy puff of cigarette smoke.

"That's easy for you to say," she scoffed. Team Toguro had been the winners of the Ankoku Tournament ten years in a row- ever since Sakyou rose to the position of team sponsor. She didn't know how he had convinced the two to start fighting again- after all, the last she had seen of the Toguro brothers, they were both vehemently against further participation. Whatever he had done, however, seemed to do the trick and the brothers, as well as their newest team, seemed unstoppable.

_Her_ team, however, was made of two teenage human boys, one old lady, one demon recovering from major surgery, and one headcase. Even Sakyou couldn't deny that the odds were not in her favor.

"I'll have you know that Mr. Toguro thinks these boys of yours may be quite powerful," Sakyou replied with a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Apparently one of them is being trained by an old fighting partner of Mr. Toguro's," Sakyou continued. "A powerful woman by the name of Genkai. Perhaps you've heard of her?"

Hotaru was smart enough to know that wasn't a real question. Her silence only made Sakyou's grin widen.

"Rather clever of you to keep your association with her a secret."

"I wasn't trying to hide it."

"Of course not."

She looked to the youngest of the Toguro brothers. She couldn't tell for sure, as his sunglasses hid where his gaze was focused, but she was almost sure those dangerous eyes were focused on her. She turned back to Sakyou. "Are you trying to tell me that this whole ordeal has just been some petty act of revenge, then?"

"In a sense, I suppose," he replied with another puff of smoke. He offered her a cigarette and she took it without thanking him. "I like to take care of my men. Perhaps you should consider doing the same."

His look to the bathroom door signaled who he was speaking of, and it only made Hotaru angrier.

"If you took better care, perhaps you wouldn't be in this situation at all," he remarked smoothly. "Man isn't an island, or so they say."

"Fuck off."

"I'm only trying to help you, Hotaru, as you have helped me."

"I wasn't _helping_ you."

"Your intent doesn't matter. What matters is that you _have_ helped me, and I want to return the favor."

"By killing the men I'm trying to support?"

"By teaching you to recognize _beauty_." She wanted to punch him square in the jaw, but held herself back. Even on a human like Sakyou her weak arms would do nothing. Much to her displeasure, he continued, his voice dream-like- as if he were speaking to some greater power, rather than to the girl that stood in front of him. "There's beauty in chaos, Hotaru. I hope you realize that."

"I realize that you're a nut job," she spat back. "Chaos isn't beautiful- it's a pain in the ass."

"It's an inevitability."

"Bullshit."

"Under the right circumstances..." Sakyou began, his eyes glowing with a dark sort of enthusiasm. "Chaos is the only possibility."

"Circumstances which you've prepared thoroughly."

"Precisely."

"Like I said, fuck yourself."

He laughed, and she felt her blood boil. Turning to leave, he regarded her with final smile- wide and sadistic in nature. "I hope you come to realize the gift I've given you. Perhaps you may learn a thing or two, before this tournament is out."

She didn't bother to respond, but thankfully Sakyou and his team continued their retreat. Once they were gone she was finally able to breathe- her overwhelming anger started to dissipate. How the man could possibly think this situation was a gift was beyond her. She already had so many forces fighting against her, and so many unpredictable people to deal with- philosophical talks about chaos and the nature of beauty were the last thing she wanted to address.

Eventually, Inari emerged from the restroom, his topknot messy and disheveled and his suit stained. "Hey, what's going on," he muttered weakly, leaning his head against the door frame.

"Nothing."

"I heard talking."

"No you didn't. Shut up." He retreated from the bathroom and Hotaru glared up at him. "You really need to quit this shit."

"Oh come on, forcing me to come here is one thing, forcing me to be _sober_ for it is another one entirely," he slurred. "Why can't I just stay at home?"

"If I'm required to be here, then you are."

"You're so selfish."

"Whatever." Hotaru eyed the god carefully. Inari still looked wobbly on his feet, and his face was pale. "You should go to bed."

"Oh, so I'm dismissed, am I?"

She flinched, but held her anger in check and pointed up the stairs. "Just go."

"Whatever you say, my lord," he mocked back, stumbling his way through the crowd and up the stairs, completely bereft of his typical grace and poise.

Once he had vanished she checked the clock- the boys should be arriving soon, if they had survived their ordeal on the transport ship. She assumed they had- the transport ship was only for the lowest class of entrants. If Yusuke had managed against Gouki then he could surely handle those idiots.

How on earth had this gotten so complicated? Hotaru had deal with far worse beings in her time- it takes quite a thick skin and a sharp mind to handle Mukuro and her whole batch of crazy- yet somehow this situation with a little human boy was becoming the most difficult she had ever faced. Truly, she knew who to blame- the two demons. Hiei was unbelievably stubborn- she had learned as much since she met him three years ago- and Kurama was notoriously difficult. She had been with Inari when he hired the young fox and had heard first hand the type of plan ruining bullshit he was capable of. Still, though, it was hard to believe that such a stupid being could really be her undoing.

She was starting to get riled up at the memory of her most recent confrontation with the two demons when suddenly someone caught her eye. It was Nozomu Sasaki, another member of the Black Book Club, although he wasn't a team sponsor. He wasn't involved with the Ankoku Tournament at all, actually, so his presence at the opening ceremony cocktail hour was a little surprising.

"Nozu, what's up?" she asked with a friendly smile. Unlike most of the other members of the club, Nozomu Sasaki wasn't malicious, nor was he crazy. He was one of the few who engaged in the club to fulfill its true purpose- protect the human realm. And although he was known to be a bit self-righteous at times, comparatively his presence was a blessing.

"Ah, Miss Hotaru! I was wondering where you were."

"You were looking for me?"

"I have something to show you," he replied. Judging by the proud grin he wore, it was something good, and Hotaru found herself forgetting all about Inari's drunken fiasco and Sakyou's dark philosophies.

* * *

Hotaru and Nozomu walked together through the darkness, towards a large metal crate that he had sent to the island specifically to show her and other prominent club members. It was parked out back of the hotel and shrouded in shadow, giving it an ominous feeling.

They neared the crate and Nozomu stopped just short of the doors. "You won't be disappointed," he remarked, before throwing the crate open and revealing what was inside.

It was a demon- that much was obvious- with large horns protruding from the back of its head and four long tails covered in scales. It was quite tall- over twice Hotaru's height, and three times her build. However, the most interesting aspect was the helmet which he wore- a steal encasing that rounded his skull and dipped over his eyes and nose, revealing only his mouth which barred a long row of fangs.

"It may not look it," Nozomu began. "But that helmet he wears will be the mark of a new age. I believe one of Team Toguro wears a similar machine."

"You mean Karasu?"

"Yes! That one." Nozomu stepped up into the crate, showing no fear towards the towering demon. "This works in a similar way, though it's a far more malleable solution."

"Malleable?"

"We can manipulate it. We can control it." The excitement the young man carried was palpable, and the look in his eyes reflected his ambition. "With this, the power we've fought against for so long can finally become ours."

"I highly doubt that."

"It's true!" Nozomu stepped towards the demon, signalling towards the helmet. "It's tied in with their central nervous system and they act like a power source. Essentially, it turns them into weapons."

"Controllable weapons?"

"Perfectly so."

Hotaru stared on before shaking her head and turning away. "Look man, I'm sorry, but I just don't see it."

"How can you not?" he asked excitedly. "Once it's perfected, we'll be able to control even the most powerful of demons."

"That's crazy as hell," she laughed. "You plan to... what? Run through Makai slapping hats on every demon you see?"

"Don't you get it, we won't have to," Nozomu continued. "Once we let word spread of our invention, those demons that have plagued our realm won't even dream of crossing that border."

"You obviously don't know demons." Honestly, Hotaru was a bit disappointed. Nozomu Sasaki was one of the highest ranking members within the organization, and as such was privy to far more information than your average member. Hotaru had acted as an informant for the club for many years, but only let men like Nozomu know of the real workings of Makai. He was well aware of the three kings beyond the rift, and of the flurry of smaller empires beyond their territories. He should at least be aware of how reckless demons could be, and how they had a tendency to run to a deadly challenge head on.

"Perhaps your average demon wouldn't be swayed," he admitted. "But surely once the three kings hear of this they'll make the wise choice to reign in their citizens."

"As if they could."

"They just haven't had proper incentive to do so."

"And this is proper incentive?"

"If they know how hard we'd be able to strike back, they wouldn't dare oppose us."

She couldn't help but scoff at that. Mukuro, Yomi, and Raizen were three of the most powerful demons she had ever had the privilege of meeting, and even she wasn't stupid enough to underestimate them like this. Some little hat wasn't going to intimidate them- even an army of demons in little hats wouldn't. "Even if that were true," she began. "Who's to say it can really work?"  
"It works."

"You're sure of that? I mean, there's all sorts of parameters, differing conditions... biology can get pretty messy, _especially_ when it comes to demons."

"It was developed by Saruden."

Hotaru almost choked on her own spit. "You're kidding."

"I'm not," Nozomu replied proudly. Suddenly his excessive confidence made sense.

"_The_ Saruden?"

"The very same."

"There's no way," Hotaru replied breathlessly.

Last she had heard, Saruden had been working for Yomi. Gandara was the most technologically advanced civilization in all three of the worlds, and almost all of those advances had been single handedly developed by Saruden- a young demon prodigy with an amazing talent for engineering. She was Yomi's most prized asset. There was no way he would ever let her go.

"We had to pay a pretty high price," Nozomu explained. "But I'd say it was well worth it."

"Yomi would never sell her."

"He didn't have much of a choice. She decided on her own."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure on the details," he laughed flippantly. "Not really my concern, frankly."

Hotaru went silent and shifted her gaze to the helmeted demon. The idea of harnessing demonic power and using it like a weapon was absurd- but if it was Saruden who had developed the technology, it was hard to doubt the validity of his claim. Still, though, she found it hard to be excited about the project.

Even Nozomu and the other top tier members weren't informed enough regarding Makai to know of Saruden's existence, much less were they capable of negotiating with Yomi himself. Furthermore, the fact that she- the backbone of their information network- hadn't known anything about the trade was upsetting. Had she really been so distracted by Yusuke and his friends that she hadn't heard?

She gritted her teeth in an attempt to hide her frustration and turned back to Nozomu. "Why did I not know about this?"

"We heard you and he had a falling out recently."

_How did they know about that? _She thought, suddenly flooded with panic. No one should know about that. Not even Inari knew about it.

Nozomu just smiled proudly back at her. "We thought it best to handle the exchange on our own. Well, technically it was the Shinobi who handled the exchange, though it was at our behest."

"The Shinobi?"

He laughed. "They were rather happy to take her on. From what I hear, she's working under Nemin."

"I'm sure Nemin's happy about that."

"About as happy as she usually is. But either way, it's not important." He signaled back to the demon with an open palm. "What's important is _this_. So tell me, what do you think of our newest project?"

Hotaru had a thousand questions, but none of them seemed safe to ask. The situation was fairly clear- the Black Book Club was branching out, and it was doing it without her. Not only that, but they were moving into far more serious projects than they had attempted in the past. This little helmet of Nozomu's made Sakyou's portal look like a child's plaything in comparison. She undoubtedly deserved to be involved in this, and the fact that she wasn't was deeply troubling. _She_ dealt with the demon kings, not the Shinobi.

Before she could come up with a response, she felt a vibration in her pocket. She withdrew her cellphone to find the number of her hotel on the caller ID. "Hello?"

"_Miss Hotaru, your guests have arrived_."

"Where are they?"

"_I've just sent them up some complimentary coffee. They should still be within the common area."_

"Right. Thanks." She hung up and turned back to Nozomu, who was busy running his fingers along the jawline of the large demon. The demon did little in response- though judging by how it gritted its teeth, it wasn't happy. "I have to get going."

"So soon? I was hoping to do a demonstration."

"You can show me later."

"Well I'm afraid I'm only staying the night, but once you're back on the mainland give me a call."

She stared him down, feeling angry, though not at him. She should stay- this should be her priority. But it wasn't and she knew she had no choice but to go.

**Hiei**

He didn't remove his gaze from the door- none of them did. The two visitors they had just received- members of Team Rokuyukai- had apparently left everyone in the room a bit on edge, and Hiei in particular was feeling feverishly agitated.

He hadn't sensed them enter. For the boy Kuwabara to not have noticed was one thing, but for _him_ to have been unaware of the child lurking in their room was absurd. At first he thought that perhaps he had just been careless- too busy being wrapped up in his own thoughts about the tournament to notice. However Kurama hadn't noticed either, which was an equally bad sign. Apparently, these fighters were stronger than Hiei had assumed they would be.

"We should be careful," Kurama warned, taking his seat again on the couch opposite Kuwabara and the sleeping Yusuke. "Obviously, these opponents will not be easy to defeat, like our last missions have been."

"_Easy?"_ Kuwabara repeated incredulously. "I don't know what _you're_ remembering but last I checked none of this spirit stuff has been _easy_."

"Comparatively, I'm afraid, it has been."

"You're kiddin me."

The boy looked sullen, and Hiei turned his attention back out the window. He had enough on his mind already- he didn't need to be bothered with whining human children.

Kurama, on the other hand, sought to appease the boy. "There is good news though," he began in a cheerful voice. "Apparently they don't think much of us."

"How is that good news!?" Kuwabara shouted back.

"It means they're likely to underestimate us," Kurama explained. "We can take them by surprise, if we play it right."

"Take them by surprise?"

"If they don't expect much, they're likely to draw out the fight in order to appease the crowd. When they do so, they'll be vulnerable, and that's when we should take our chance to strike. It's always best to finish an opponent quickly- even they know this- but judging by their behavior, particularly the boy, those two are eager show off."

"So... we just sort of play it cool? And then when they think they've got us we hit back, yea?"

"Precisely. They'll be caught off guard. It'll be our best chance."

"That only works if we have something to surprise them _with_," Hiei snapped back, unwittingly being drawn into their conversation. They, as well as the masked fighter, turned towards him expectantly, and with reluctance he explained. "Nothing will surprise them if they already know the extent of our power."

Kurama smiled back at him, making Hiei cringe. "I'd say we're certainly strong enough to take them on."

"_Some _of us are."

Kuwabara went red in the face. "Hey, is that a shot at me?!"

"How very astute of you to notice."

"Shut up! I can take 'em!" the boy replied, balling his hands into fists and striking a pose. "I'll show those two guys who's boss and take 'em by surprise just like Kurama said!"

"Hn. Sure you will."

"You wanna test me yourself, huh!?"

"Not particularly."

"Please," Kurama protruded, though he sounded almost amused. "In-fighting will get us nowhere."

"I'm not fighting," Hiei corrected. "I'm giving advice."

"Pretty bad advice," Kuwabara growled. "I'm a lot stronger than you think I am."

"So you've demonstrated."

"That's right," the boy replied with an enthusiastic nod. It wasn't until moments later that he caught the sarcastic tone. "Hey! Don't look down on me!"

Hiei was about to reply with another quip when the door to their room opened once again. This time, however, it wasn't another group of contestants, nor was it the uniformed man from before. It was someone far, far less pleasant.

"Sounds like you guys are getting along well," Hotaru chimed with a wide grin. She was dressed in a horribly colored yellow dress, and was holding a thin manila folder. Apparently, Hiei wasn't the only one to notice how ridiculous she looked in the dress, as Kuwabara let out a loud laugh upon her entrance. Even Kurama had to keep himself from smiling.

"What are you wearing!?" the boy bellowed through chuckles.

"It's a dress. Obviously." She placed her hands on her hips and scowled at him, though this only served to make her look more masculine and out of place in the thin fabric. "I have to look nice for these sorts of things you know."

"You look like Hiroshi Fujiwara!"

"God damn it why is everyone saying that!?" Kuwabara was practically in tears, but the girl pushed her way in regardless, speaking over his fit of giggles. "I came to check up on all of you how are- AH! HEY!" She suddenly signaled to Yusuke, who she had only now realized was fast asleep. "HE DIED!?"

"No, no, he's merely sleeping," Kurama corrected.

Hotaru practically collapsed onto the floor in her relief. "Jesus christ that scared me. Why is he sleeping?"

"Apparently he's rather worn out from his training with Master Genkai."

Hiei watched on as Hotaru began poking and prodding the boy to wake him up. Needless to say, that didn't do anything, and after a few minutes the girl finally gave up with a heavy sigh. "I guess I'll have to get him to sign it later."

"Sign what?" Kuwabara asked.

"I have some release forms for all of you," she explained, pulling out five sheets of paper from the envelope and five cheap pens.

Kurama regarded the paper inquisitively. "What sort of release forms?"

"Just standard tournament stuff."

"And if we refuse to sign?"

"Then we aren't allowed to show your faces on TV. Er... technically. Really we just blur out your eyes, so it's probably best just to sign it anyway." She gave a slight shrug while handing out the papers, and laughed. "Kind of strange, I know. Perfectly legal for us to force you to fight, but televising your face in full is apparently a problem."

The boys and the masked fighter began reading through the contracts, while Yusuke's was left on the table. Hotaru then approached Hiei at his seat by the window.

"You too, buddy."

"I'll pass."

She pursed her lips, as if she were somehow surprised by his reluctance. It was as if the girl hardly even remembered what had occurred the last time he saw her. "Like I said, it doesn't help anyone not to sign," she explained.

"I don't care," Hiei snapped back.

"You're going to look stupid if you're the only one with your eyes blurred," she remarked cooly. Still, he remained stubborn and looked up at her with the same cold stare as before. "Jesus, do you have to be so difficult?"

"It makes no difference to me how this tournament is televised."

"But-"

"Don't bother, Hotaru," Kuwabara called from the center of the room. "He's always like that."

Kuwabara was obviously unaware of how long the two had known each other, as well as the fact that Hotaru could be just as stubborn as he was.

"Come on, buddy," she pleaded. "I came all the way up here for this, so the least you can do-"

"- Don't act like I owe you anything."

"It's just this one _little_ thing." She held up the contract once again and he glanced at it. It looked confusing though, and he quickly turned back to her with an angry glare.

"Stop that before I make you."

Suddenly, he thought he spotted the hints of a smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "At least read it for me," she protested, shoving the contract in his face. "Just to make sure you don't want to sign."

He pushed the paper from his face and resumed staring out the window. Hotaru paused, and he could see in her reflection on the glass that she really _was_ smiling. It was irritating.

"Just check it out," she continued through her grin. "It's only a few paragraphs. It shouldn't take that long."

Hiei held onto his silence, which only seemed to further amuse the girl.

"It's not that hard," Hotaru began slowly. "... Or is it?"

He flinched. She laughed.

"I've always wondered how you got out of that contract," she said in a low, quiet voice. "It's nothing to be ashamed of Hiei."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've been there too, you know," she whispered. "It's pretty shitty... to not be able to read."

"I can read."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Then read this." She signaled to the contract again, and once more he pushed it out of his face, eliciting another laugh from Hotaru. "I thought so."

"I don't have to prove anything to you."

"I was so confused for so long," she continued, as if she wasn't even listening anymore. "No one has ever gotten out of my contracts before. I figured you had some magic power or something, but this is a much better explanation. After all, you can't agree to the contract unless you're capable of reading it."

"Like I said-"

"- Really, you don't need to be embarrassed," she laughed. "It's quite common for demons not to be able to read. And knowing your history, it only makes sense."

He wanted to rip her throat out, but knew it would do no good. He had more important things to think about, like those two fighters from before. He didn't have the time or the energy to waste on Hotaru and her silly remarks.

Even if what she said was true.

It wasn't that he was stupid- though sometimes he wondered if he was. Rather it was just that no one had ever taught him. He grew up with bandits, and even they stayed away from him once he grew old enough to kill them. He had spent his entire life fighting. Unlike Kurama, he had no taste for books or charms. He knew how to read the numbers, and how to write his own name. That was all he really needed.

Though right now he was really starting to wish he had picked up a book.

She continued at a whisper. "If you ever need a tutor-"

"- Would you shut up."

"I'm just saying-"

"- I don't care," he snapped, finally turning back to her and meeting her devilish eyes with furious ones of his own. "Hand me the contract."

She passed it over and he looked it up and down. Truly, he didn't understand a word of it, but he remained focus long enough to make it seem as if he did. Then, on the space provided at the bottom, he signed his name. When he went to hand it back to her, he expected her grin to have faded. It hadn't- in fact, she appeared even happier than she had before.

"Jeez, Hiei, you're so cute sometimes." She ignored the angry glare he shot her and instead strutted confidently back towards the rest of the group, giving him a wide grin and a wink. "And don't forget our little deal okay? I'll have my eye on you."

_As if I didn't already know_. He watched her suspiciously as she moved through the rest of the group, gathering up her papers and conversing with the others. He was angry, but he was used to it- Hotaru had always angered him, ever since the day they had first met. And judging by how things had gone since that day, it didn't look like their situation would improve. _I should have just walked away_.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not sure if other's will get the joke or not, but Hiroshi Fujiwara is an ensemble member of the show comedy show Downtown no Gaki no Tsukai ya Arahende! (creators of Silent Library and 24 Hour Tag). He's known particularly for dressing up as women, and for doing it very poorly.

Daifugo is the Japanese variant of the game Rich Man Poor Man, and the cast plays it frequently throughout the canon.


End file.
